


Let Go With Both Hands

by Belfire



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angry Kissing, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Apparently time heals, Bruce Wayne is a Bad Parent, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, He's about sixteen, Isolation, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason needs a hug but doesn't fucking want one, Jay lives alone in a warehouse, Latino Kyle Rayner, Love/Hate, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Paralysis, Serious Injuries, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Verbal Abuse, Victim Blaming, What-If, White Lantern Kyle Rayner, terrible parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-05-20 17:08:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 37,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19381078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Belfire/pseuds/Belfire
Summary: "Jason..."It was then that Kyle saw it. The rebar peeking out of his friend's gut, the length of it completely submerged and the point of the other end sticking out of Jason's back. At every half-inch of fevered movement, a fresh gush of blood came in thick pulps.





	1. White Lantern Light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BunnyJess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BunnyJess/gifts).



> *dips toes into the waters of new ship* 
> 
> For an amazing dude I know, BunnyJess, my ever-enthusiastic and supportive friend.
> 
> Thanks to Anrim for giving me ideas for this ❤

The mission went awry fast. It was supposed to be so _simple_ ; swoop in and rescue Robin from Joker's clutches. The clown had been ready for it, beating Jason within an inch of his life as he hopped around in anticipation, waiting for his tackle to get a bite. He was fishing for a big bad Batman.

Except, Kyle's white lantern's light shone over the city at that time for one reason; he was there for Jason. They had a bone to pick, some words that needed swapping, a couple 'fuck yous' to throw in there with the rest, then make out 'til the sun came up. It was a scheduled routine of theirs, really. 

Except Robin was caught when the Bat took his eyes off him for two seconds. Captured by _Joker_. Kyle was in the area, he heard about it, and he could sure as hell fly faster than the batmobile could burn rubber. He got to the warehouse, he saw it, he was almost there and _boom_.

The explosion lead to the shrapnel... Kyle had never heard Jaybird scream like that, wetly, raggedly, _agonised_ , and then the blood... God, there was so much blood, pouring out as if from a valveless tap and not the puncture through his friend's abdomen.

" _Jason_ -!"

The fire from the explosion glowed orange, hot on Kyle's face but he didn't register the burn against his skin, he couldn't over how fast he was running across gravel and the broken chunks of the building. He ran until he almost stumbled onto Jason. The Robin's eyes were shut, he was laying on his back, pinned by construction materials.

"Jason..."

It was then that Kyle saw _it_. The rebar peeking out of his friend's gut, the length of it completely submerged and the point of the other end sticking out of Jason's back. At every half-inch of fevered movement, a fresh gush of blood came in thick pulps.

All the colour drained from Kyle's face when he took in the extent of the sawtooth injury. His heartbeat thudded to a stop.

" _No_ ," Kyle whispered when he fell to his knees, heavily, already feeling the tears blurring his horrified vision as he swept it over Jason, praying he had seen wrong. But _no_ , there it was, the rebar, grinning at the lantern with a sadistic glint travelling along its blood-slicked surface. There were other wounds, so, so many other wounds but that was the only one that pulled his attention to it.

He knew what a mortal injury looked like. He came here to _save_ Jason and - and-

"No, no, please _no_ ," Kyle repeated breathlessly, fussing with his hands, swallowing back tears because this _wasn't_ happening! That frozen heart of his kicked back into action with a vengeance, beginning to pound way too hard and way too fast.

"K - Ky..." Jason almost got Kyle's name out of his mouth when he began coughing, not a gradual light cough that worsened, but one that was harsh and wet from the moment it started. Blood bubbled up from between his teeth and stained them rosy pink. Kyle didn't think before slotting his hand behind Jason's back and sitting him up so he could breathe past the fluids pooling in his mouth. The instant he did was the instant the Robin screamed, _loud_.

Kyle almost dropped him. He would have if it wouldn't have hurt him worse.

"Jason, stay with me. _Please_." Though teary, Kyle nodded to himself with nearly demented vigour, still trembling more than he could control. He felt seconds away from a mental breakdown in the worst place he could possibly have it. His eyes were so wide and so scared, like those of a child's, alive with panic. He inhaled and shuddered, continuously repeating the uneven mantra of denial.

Adjusting Jason in his arms, Kyle lowered his unsteady hand over the wound, trying to stem the blood flow when it just spurted between his fingers. His white lantern suit was drenched and red all over and ruined.

"It - it's not that bad." Kyle lied to himself about the extent of the injury. Jason was panting wetly, tiny uneven breaths turning to frail cries.

"H - hurts..." Jason whined and twisted an invisible knife deeper into Kyle's chest. It was as if _he_ was impaled.

"I know, I - I know," the lantern stroked his hair back, soaked with sweat and blood, screaming prayers to any higher power who would listen.

Kyle struggled with his arms around Jason to switch his emergency beacon on and summon any cape in the city to his location. They needed help, _ASAP_.

Without warning, Jason began coughing up blood, rasping and wheezing. He couldn't breathe.

"Stay with me, Jay," Kyle urged, _begged_ , it didn't go through. It didn't. Jason was starting to seize, body going into shock. Oxygenated blood poured out his mouth and the grisly puncture in his abdomen. No, no - _no_!

"Don't you dare fucking die on me, Robin! _Don't_!"

Where the fuck was Batman? Where was Hal? Shit, Kyle would take anyone who could help, any super or bystander who would save Robin. He couldn't die! Jason was - Jason was supposed to be indestructible, the strong cocky Boy Wonder who smirked a lot and made dumb jokes with bad timing. He wasn't supposed to _die_.

Before Kyle knew what he was doing, shaking desperate words fell unbidden from his lips until a mantra started coming together. Only now did he remember it.

"In - in brightest day the - there will be light. T - to cleanse the soul and set wrongs right. When d - darkness falls look to the skies!"

A flood of white light spread like fire through the air around them. Sobbing, praying, Kyle closed his eyes and hugged Jason's battered body tightly to himself.

* * *

 

With a jerk, Kyle woke up panting and drenched in a cold sweat, the sheets and duvets wrapped around him suffocatingly. His whole body shook, high strung and on alert, every sense screaming while the imagery of that night flashed through his mind. That awful, _awful_ night. The worst of his life. The moment he learned what fear and anguish truly meant.

Kyle had seen it in his dreams every time since, haunted by the way Jason's shattered bones crunched beneath his skin, his frail whimpers, and the unpleasant warmth of his blood. He only had to close his eyes to hear the agonised screams and wet weak panting, each breath threatening to be the last.

Now like so many times, Kyle was terrified to think what reality he would be living in if his lantern's light hadn't managed to save Jason, just barely. Jason would be dead and buried, cold beneath six feet of backyard dirt. The thought was sickening.

He couldn't go back to sleep. Not until he knew Jay was alright. He had to see Jay being _alright_. His taut nerves wouldn't allow it until then.

Before he knew it, Kyle was no longer in bed, no longer in his room or apartment,  but rather soaring above the restless city, stirring with unease as its nightwatchmen attempted to win a losing battle. Honestly, Kyle didn't know why any of them bothered. Most didn't have powers, they'd just end up like Jason. Dead or worse.

He tracked the Robin - or _ex_ -Robin, to be more exact, to a warehouse on the edge of Gotham, leaning closer towards Bludhaven's border. Figures Jaybird wanted his space from his overbearing family and their concerns but all things considered, it wasn't the smartest thing he could have done. But that's how he operated. Which is what landed him here, like _this_ , in the first place, as Bruce loved to remind him.

Kyle tripped at least three of Jason's motion sensors as he let himself in but no alarm went off. Jay was probably watching him from the tens of hidden cameras littering the surrounding area, he knew no threat approached. Now, Kyle was happy to be one of the very few and far apart who were permitted access to this place, but he was also aware that was just because Jason couldn't be bothered to try to get rid of him.  It was five AM, the ex-Robin was likely too tired to use the various pieces of security on the lantern. Tired but unwilling to sleep, in classic bat fashion.

"Jaybird?" Kyle's quiet voice filled the warehouse from the floor to the high ceiling and all four walls, carried out on the taper of a faint echo. His footfalls sounded loud no matter how light his step was, further making his presence known but he supposed that was a good thing. If by some wonder Jason wasn't aware of his presence yet, he didn't want to startle him.

Kyle wove his way between the high stacks of crates and old machinery Jason dwelt amongst to the single clearing in the furthest corner of the maze, a space just big enough to stow an abundance of computer equipment. Monitors were piled one atop the other until they looked ready to topple over at a stray breath. Hard drives by the dozen were connected to various electronics by a spider web of cables and extension cords. A keyboard twice the length of any ordinary one controlled it all.

And among the disarray, the organised chaos, was Jason. He was typing in a dull black font, emanating a rapid click-clacking of his fingers on the keys. The monitor blasted blinding white light into his face and illuminated the dark room, casting eerie shadows across the cold walls even when the brightness was reduced to its least.  The speakers were spitting out harsh lyrics and a beat to match, the volume so low that Kyle barely made out a word. It was Eminem, if he wasn't mistaken, Jason's go-to angst buddy.

Jason was wearing a red sweatshirt with the hood pulled over his head and nothing underneath, the unzippered front allowing a wide area of his skin to be seen, from hips to collarbones. His scruffy black jeans were thin at the knees and a piece of electrical tape was slapped on the new tear in the fabric over his thigh. He didn't have shoes on, just mismatched socks with a Christmas theme.

Kyle was at least glad Jason bothered to get dressed today.

"What're you working on?" The lantern inquired when he realised Jason wasn't going to acknowledge him despite knowing he was there. He stepped over empty energy drink cans as he approached, tens of them littered across the floor. There was a trash can that had rolled over by Jason's office chair so it looked like there had been a point where he'd tried to maintain a semblance of cleanliness.

Distantly, he recalled the days where Jaybird was a neat-freak, before the not-so-accidental accident.

"I'm hacking government files..." Jay murmured distractedly, eyes focused intently on the screen, darting from location to location at lightning's pace. Kyle observed what he was up to and it was all Greek to him. Utter cyber gibberish.

"Can I ask why you're doing that?"

"They have data that Bruce needs. I'm getting to it before he can."

Kyle nodded in understanding. Figures. Ever since Jay sharpened his computer know-how, he'd been making Bruce's life difficult wherever he could, whenever he was pissed, causing inconveniences and interfering here and there.

"Another fight with the old man?" He guessed and Jason shrugged. That was enough to confirm it. Those two went off on each other the moment they were in the same room, like fireworks and a spark. It had gotten progressively worse since the explosion months ago, verbal abuse was thrown around back and forth carelessly.

"What are you doing here, Rayner?" Turning his music down with his ring finger on the volume key, Jason broke away from the computer, rotating himself in the chair with one hand on the edge of the desk.  He looked so tired, Kyle couldn't help but notice as he tried to avoid his gaze landing on the mass of scar tissue spreading across his belly.

"I was in the area." He lied. He couldn't bring himself to confess to the truth, that he had a dream where he was vividly reliving that god-awful night, right down to the stench of burnt blood. He didn't need to remind Jason of it, he just had to see him and settle his screaming paranoid senses. Kyle had to remember Jay hadn't died, it was what allowed him to breathe without tightness in his throat.

"I don't need a caretaker." Muttering, Jason rolled his eyes, attempting to turn back to the monitor but Kyle took his chair by the backrest and rotated him around to face him.

"I know you don't. I'm just dropping by."

"I don't have time to entertain guests, I got cases to solve and Bruce's day to ruin." Removing Kyle's hand, Jay returned to the keyboard and resumed typing. The lantern wanted to, but he knew better than to ask if Jason was okay. The result would just be a defensive outburst of _'you think I can't take care of myself?!'_ and being cursed to his grave for _implying_ Jason ever needed any help.

Exhaling quietly, Kyle folded his arms and let his gaze wander the lonely dark warehouse. It was cold in here but Jason didn't seem to feel the chill seep into his bones, not with the anger that kept him warm when nothing else could. Yes, he was angry. At Bruce, for the most part. But not because the man didn't rescue him or that he let him get captured in the first place, it was because of the new Robin. The new Robin who was on the streets and in Jason's suit hardly a month after the explosion. The bloodstains were just scrubbed out before another kid put on the cape.

Batman could honestly go to hell. Kyle was just as outraged as Jay, furious for him, indignant because the moment Jason wasn't able to uphold the mantle, he may as well have been kicked out of the family. Dick was better than the rest of the bats, more understanding, didn't throw harsh judgements around when Jason got riled up but it wasn't the same as it used to be.

"How's physio going?" Kyle asked when he came out of his thoughts to the sound of Jason pressing the enter key particularly loudly.

"Fuck physio." Jay grumbled in response. The lantern wasn't surprised he felt that way. No one told Jason Todd he needed therapy of any sort, even if it was obvious he really did.

"Jase, you realise you're never gonna get better if you don't go to physio?"

"I'm not gonna get better as it is, Rayner, so why fucking bother with something that's a complete waste of what's left of my miserable life?" Jay snapped, bitter at the world for the predicament he was in just for trying to defend a small part of it. Now, Kyle had come in here intentionally ignoring the wheelchair cast into the furthest corner of the room, where it was far enough for Jason to pretend he didn't need it. Kyle wanted to pretend so too. Maybe if his dumb fucking head had figured out to use his lantern powers to heal Jay sooner, there would be no paralysis left behind. The shock and fear had slowed his brain to a crawl, the horror of seeing his friend like that was almost too much. He was only able to keep Jason from bleeding to death, he wasn't fast enough to take away all the damage.

It was too late now. The ring couldn't achieve miracles. It's power had a limit.

Jason knew that, of course. He was aware that if Kyle had recited the White Lantern Oath the second he found him, there would be no wheelchair. Kyle was hesitant to ask if Jay blamed him in any part, because he himself sure as fuck did. Joker might have paralysed Jay but it was Kyle who, by his stupidity, ensured it was permanent.

"Can I lend a hand with your cases? I need something to do, man." He made it a point to imply Jason didn't _need_ help, but rather Kyle was bored. When he wasn't messing with Bruce's work and generally making the Bat's life one big inconvenience, he took cases. Or rather, _contracts_. He found people who wanted to hide, dug up information better off destroyed, and granted access to places that were supposed to be off limits. All for a price, of course. He had to do something with his time, didn't he?

"I don't need you, Rayner. You'll just get in my way."

" _Right_." Kyle rolled his eyes with a click of his tongue.

"Cause you don't need anyone."

His back to the lantern, the ex-Robin tensed his posture, teeth setting with a subtle click. His typing sped up, fingers hitting the keys harder, angrier now that he was reminded. The hood fell further over his face, almost hiding his eyes, stirring with a storm.

"Anyone decided they don't need me first." He viciously spat. Whether that was true or not, Kyle knew there was no convincing him otherwise.

This was Jason now. How he was. How he would be. He survived Joker with his life intact but that was about it.


	2. Lantern of "Life"

As usual, Jason's morning routine began with cursing everything under the sun to damnation before he even had his eyes open. Everyone could go fuck themselves on serrated fence posts. If the city was burning outside, he didn't care. It could all go to hell. _Fuck_ _everyone_.

And then with all those thoughts in the bag, he parted his inky black lashes and stared at the tall warehouse ceiling. Oh, thank the fucking _Lord_ , another morning where he woke up _alive_. Yay. This is exactly what he wanted.

Sleep never took his troubles away, they rocketed back each dawn and bore a vengeance. Scowling, Jason ground his jaws when he remembered the fight with Bruce yesterday, and then Kyle coming around... Why did that dumb idiot lantern insist on dropping by so frequently? To see the cripple Robin in all of his chagrin? Too bad Ky didn't bring popcorn and a stick to poke him with. Might be worth a laugh. Bruce certainly found it a spectacle what a height Jason had fallen from.

_"You can't blame the Joker for putting you in that chair."_

His teeth chipped with how hard he was gritting them, tightening his hands around fistfuls of the covers. His knuckles shone white through his skin, as white as Kyle's fucking aura. _Lantern of life_.... Yeah sure. Why didn't he just mind his own business and let Jason die under that building with a rod in his side? Just _had_ to fucking save his life, didn't he? Couldn't even make it life or death, one or the other, Jason would have taken the black and white over being _halved_. Alive, he would have recovered and put it behind him. Dead, there would be nothing to worry about and Bruce could remember him as a soldier who died on the job. With honour. With dignity.

Being the laughable paraplegic Robin didn't leave him with anything but pitying eyes and copious amounts of _are you alright? Can I help? You can't reach that. Let me get it for you, Jay._ Not to mention the worst of it; Bruce's scorn and the unashamed pride he had in his _new_ Robin. His Robin who could fucking _walk_. Run, bound,  leap, kick, _fight_... His Robin who wasn't dumb enough to get caught and get broken.

Jason gave that kid a month before Bruce got tired of him.

Like every morning, he slid his hand beneath the blanket and pinched his thigh. He wanted to feel the pain of twisting his skin to bruises but disappointingly, all he felt was numbness. So he still hadn't woken up and the nightmare persisted? One day... One _morning_ , he'd come around to a fully functioning body.

If he told himself that enough, it was almost something to look forward to. It's not like the promise of a new day was doing it for him.

Grunting, Jason propped himself onto his elbows then sat up, wincing as a twinge of pain lanced up his spine. Couldn't feel his legs but he felt the aftermath of the explosion nearly eight months later. God loved him _so_ much. It was a pinched nerve or the old breaks in his vertebrae firing off again. Wouldn't be Monday morning if they didn't, right?

Through controlled breathing, forced to remain even, he waited for the pain to level out before he tried moving again.

Jason hated everything _so_ much.

Straining, he carefully leaned over the edge of the bed and reached for the damned wheelchair sitting at his bedside. It sucked balls but it was preferable to coming around to Bruce looming over him, passing silent judgement. Good thing the old timer hadn't paid him a visit in months then, wasn't it? Well, unless you count yesterday when he bothered to call and curse Jason out for something that wasn't his fault. _Prick_...

Jason's jaw clenched when he managed to get his fingers around the arm of the damn chair and drag it over to himself, as close as he could. Next step was locking the wheels and not cracking his chin open on the floor while trying to transfer himself... Cause that hadn't _ever_ happened before. He had the scar to remember it.

Gripping the chair on both sides, Jason took a readying breath before he went about the effort of relying all his weight onto his arms. With a grunt, he lifted his half-useless body enough to manoeuvre around and all but drop himself into the cursed seat. His back thudded against it and Jason exhaled, shutting his eyes for a moment and tipping his head a fraction. 

It was all so much harder than it should be. Then again, that'd been the case with most things after he traded sneakers for wheels.

Fuck his body for cashing out on him. Fuck Bruce for cashing out right after.

On the slightly silver lining of things, his arms hadn't decided to stop working yet. _At least_ he still had those and he was putting time he used to spend training into making sure his biceps, wrists, and shoulders stayed strong enough to support his weight.

Should the day come where he lost _all_ mobility, Jason would find a way to put a gun in his mouth and not flinch to pull the trigger.  _In fact_ , he had the perfect firearm clipped in the holster he fastened to one of the wheels. For self-defence purposes, _of course_. 

There was also a glock under his mountain of pillows, locked and loaded. He refused to be as helpless as he was perceived. He refused to be _vulnerable_. He couldn't give Bruce the satisfaction of being right.

_"You can't protect yourself, Jason. You couldn't when you were able to walk and you're only an easier target now. Batman and Bruce Wayne have plenty enemies who'll aim for the weakest link."_

_Pft. Weakest. Link._

He wouldn't be the _weakest_ if he could've relied on his partner to have his back and rescue him. But sure. It was Jason's fault.

And as much as he wanted to brood the day away, he had to do something productive.... Or Bruce would win the unspoken bet.

Gathering himself, Jason straightened and turned, rolling toward the computers. All he needed was within sight lock of his bed in the corner.

He considered brushing his teeth and maybe trying to get washed, but it honestly sounded like too much of a hassle. He'd just pop some gum and do his best not to drown in the bath later.

Good golly, being alive was fun and fulfilling.

Hmm. Seems like before he left, Kyle cleaned up Jason's energy drink can collection because the floor was now visible. Hopefully, he didn't trash those cans. There was like, fifteen dollars in recycling there. Not that Jason needed the money. Whenever he was short on funds, he just hacked Bruce's bank account and admittedly took more than he needed. The old guy either wasn't aware because he had too much cheddar to notice any was missing or he didn't care enough to stop Jason.

The former was the likelier option. No hard feelings, though. Brucie also didn't care enough to let Jason's stitches come out before Tim Drake entered the scene, so the money thing really wasn't as cold as it came.

Jason pretended he didn't know Bruce got the Robin suit refitted the day after it came to light his _son_ was paralysed. Made him wonder if Batman had a queue-up of spare Robin candidates in the back of his head. Just in case the next tragedy was around the corner.

The warehouse was cold that morning despite it being mid-summer, Jason blamed his goosebumps on the fact that he was shirtless. At some point in the night, he'd squirmed out of his hoodie and fuck knew where the garment was now. Probably between the wall and bed where he wouldn't ever get it out again. He had other shirts so why bother? He'd just blow more of Bruce's wealth if he needed a new wardrobe. He refused to use the money he earned from contracts. It all went into an offshore account for a rainy day. Bruce got him crippled, replaced him, pushed him aside, now Bruce's money was his to make up for some of it.

But he did have to do something about being cold. Grumbling beneath his breath, small incoherencies, Jason plucked the first shirt he spotted off the ground, deduced it was clean enough, and roughly pulled it over his head. Eminem's name now took up the space the yellow R used to on his breast.

He'd bet Wayne's money that ole Marshall Mathers wouldn't abandon  Hailie if she got crippled tomorrow.

It was a Bruce thing.

The warehouse carried the pleasant aroma of cooling food. Jason followed it to his computer tables and discovered Kyle must have come back after he fell asleep. There was a brown paper McDonald's bag by his keyboard. And a yellow sticky note. _Breakfast_ , it said, _eat_.

 _Oh, Ky..._ Jason sighed and rolled his eyes. He didn't even open the bag to check its contents before sweeping it off the table and into the trash can beneath it. The Lantern was sweet with his gestures and caring and all, but didn't he know how much of that shit was carbs, oils, fats and sodium? It's not like Jason could burn the calories away as he used to and he was _not_ running the risk of being the _fat_ paraplegic Robin.

So instead of breakfast, he opened the small fridge, also beneath the table, and scanned the rows of Monster for a black can with three green claw marks forming an M. An icy chill filled his palm when he took the can, opening the top with a sharp pop-hiss and taking a deep drink while he haphazardly swatted the door closed again.

And it was time to get to work.

Today, he was dealing with something that was particularly close to the heart. A young mother of two little children had to get away from her extremely abusive husband. Problem was, he controlled any money coming in and, to make it worse, he's a cop whose friends would help him find her wherever she went. He was possessive enough to follow her to the world's end and take punishment into his own hands. He couldn't be stopped.

Until a certain hacker nicknamed Red got involved. The moment he read the mother's email, pleading with him as a last resort, he promised to do what he could. And his capabilities meant she had a fake ID, a place in rural New Jersey to stay with a friend of his, and enough money wired over from Bruce's hacked account to get her and her children through the first months. Jason erased any record of where she went so no cop husband would show up behind her door.

He did that pro-bono, which was rarely the case but certain instances warranted an exception. She would have paid him if he'd asked, no matter what she had to do for the money.

That was what a parent should be. Do anything for their kids. Never abandon them. Take care of them. _Love_ them....

But onto the next contract. No thinking about Bruce.

Jason had an open case from yesterday to occupy him and he was not invested. Some rich geezer paid him a generous amount to dig up serious dirt on a rival company executive. Blackmail material. Easy shit.

Cracking his knuckles, he got on with it. So Adam Pierce was the name of the guy, he ran a million dollar company specialising in fashionable clothing that plagiarised foreign designs. His biggest competitor, Jason's client, needed to vanquish his rival to sell his wares and steal Pierce's customers.

And as it happens, Pierce had a dirty little secret Jason found in age-old police records. The man was charged with rape and battery fifteen years ago but the judge was paid off, the charges dropped, and life went on. And that wasn't all. It took ten minutes to find three other similar incidents from over the years, all brushed under the carpet. It was damaging shit, Jason emailed it to his client, along with screenshots of the records and the contact details of the victims, in case any wanted to come forth.

That done, he watched the money remotely transfer into his account. The zeros rolled to a four. 

He supposed people could take his information and leave him unpaid, but the few who had tried that had been all the example anyone needed. A few months ago, a trash can of an individual tried to screw him over. Annoyed, Jason ran his company into the ground in a matter of a week, ruined him, drove him broke. His wife filed for divorce, took the kids, the guy was left drinking away what little he had remained of his fortune. He was _destroyed_.

Recalling it, Jason smirked. Cut him wide open, cut him in half, and he was still a force to be reckoned with in his own right.  Joker broke the wrong part of him, his _spine_. The clown bastard forgot he had a fucking brain. _Bruce_ forgot he wasn't useless.

But as quickly as the burst of empowerment came, it faded when his motion sensors went off on the outer most security line. It faded because he saw from the cameras that... Dick was here. In civvies, hands in his pockets and head down as he approached. And that wasn't it. He didn't come alone. Tim fucking _Drake_ was tagging along, on Dick's heels, and he was asking questions. And _smiling_.

 _Crap_.

Jason's expression darkened to the colour of an ace of spades. Oh no. Oh no, Dick better fucking not have _dared_ bring that brat here. He'd purposefully avoided that kid since the day he replaced him, only swapped five sentences in total, and he always fucking _questions_. _Did you find the cape too long? The belt's awesome, huh? Nightwing's cooler in person, isn't he?_ _Bruce told me you struggled to learn a split kick, did you really? Is my suit different from yours?_

_It is my suit, you fucking poptart._

Jason thought that angrily to himself, _bitterly_ , gripping the wheels of his chair and turning himself to the monitor to his right. He shut it off and closed all the programs he had running. Locked though they were, the doors wouldn't keep Dick out so Jason may as well make sure what he was doing remained his business. Bruce would jump on his crippled ass for being a black hat hacker. Which he wasn't _exactly_ , he alternated between the legal and illegal (let's be honest, _mostly_ illegal) depending on the contract. But the great and powerful Bat would only home in on the bad. As always.

_"Just stay at the damn manor. You'll end up hurting yourself trying to do a simple task on your own. Incapable is what you are, Jason. Dick would never have been captured, Tim is already a better Robin, clearly you need to be taken care of."_

Growling at the voice in his head, Jason glided back over to the table he'd left his drink at and sipped it as he waited for the two ass-kissers to join him. His hand was locked stiffly around the cold sides of the can.

With any luck, Bruce choked to death sucking his own dick.

And _speaking_ of dicks.

"Jason," Richard Grayson, the pure and perfect, let himself in as if he owned the place, not even bothering to ask Jason's permission before invading his space. And looky here, lidl Tim-Tam was skipping along after. How lovely, the trinity of Batman's baby bitches, all together under the same roof.

"Oh _hey_... Don't I know you guys from somewhere?" Jason grinned wryly over the rim of his can, hovering by his lips. Cynical, his head was tipped a fraction. What the hell did these fist-fuckers want? Did B send them?

"Cut the jokes while you're ahead, little wing." Dick warily told him and the ex-Robin took great joy in observing his clear lethargy. Maybe licking the mud off Bruce's boots had made it a day.

"You hacked the Batcave computers and stole data files, didn't you?" Dick asked but it wasn't a question. He knew the answer was a yes.

"That's for me to know and you to not know." Smirking, Jason tilted his chin, looking up at Dickie. He could tell his so-called big brother didn't appreciate his attitude but fuck if he cared. He brought Tim here, knowing Jason's feelings regarding him. And _why_ bring the brat?

"Bruce is livid.  Return the data or he'll come down and take it himself." His voice rough as smoke, Dick attempted to make that sound like a warning but Jason knew not to be credulous with him. Dick never came between Bruce and Jason ahead of time like this.

"You make it sound like B ever talks to me without raging out and you never step in then." Jason took knowing mouthful of energy drink. It was killing his kidneys but he did not care.

"So what are you actually doing here?"

" _Jay_..." Dickie sighed, hands on his hips. Jason's eyes were blown black by the expectant readiness to defend himself and his actions the next time Dick opened his mouth.

"Apparently, you've missed your last five appointments at the physical therapist's office." Aha, so their real reason for showing up was that. _Finally_ , some goddamn honesty.

Jason's gaze narrowed. He felt Tim's gaze tracing the silvery rims of the chair's wheels and glared at the kid until he looked away, then returned the leer to Dick.

"How the fuck do you know that?" He spat, not fond of the idea of them knowing his business.

"Bruce was informed. He's your legal guardian."

"Not for long."

"Emancipation hasn't gone through yet. Until it does, Bruce has access to your information."

"Hmph." Jason hated the reminder. Bruce wasn't keeping up to date out of concern, he just wanted to spy and let Jason know what a disappointment he was.

"Physio's kinda important, man." Tim chimed in as if he was wanted. Jason shot him a dark look, growling,

"Shut the _fuck_ up."

"Jason, _don't_."  Dick warned, instinctively coming to his _little brother's_ defence. Where was he yesterday when Bruce was chewing Jason out? 

"We just want you to get better, Jay." Tim went on as if he actually cared. His voice was concerned, his expression too but he ticked Jason off. Who the hell told him he had any right to worry? Or call him _Jay_?

"I'm not sick, I'm _paralysed_ , Drake. I'm _not_ getting _better_." He bit, aggressively gripping his chair's arms harder. First _Kyle_ and now Tim, thinking he was going to magically recover from this. What the fuck was wrong with the people in his orbit?

Jason's flinty outburst had Tim recoil as if struck. He stepped back behind Dick, Dick's arm moving to protectively place over him, but he rethought that and lowered the limb. Of course, why wouldn't he? Jason was the crippled unwanted Robin, no threat at all.

"Leave him alone, Jason. He's just trying to help."

"Help by getting lost and getting bent. You have no reason to be here."

" _No_ reason?" He snorted, finally letting some true emotion show.

"You're _fifteen_ , you're _paralysed_ , you're living alone, ignoring physio and you're mad at us for _caring_?" Dick listed those off like they were valid reasons, but,

"Actually, I'm _sixteen_. Going on seventeen. And you'd know that if you cared this much  _before_ an iron rod went through me." Dick's mouth opened to say something but when his words dried up, he closed his lips into a thin line. Yeah. That's what Jason thought. Dick was acting like he was a caring big brother from day one but the truth is, he only started taking an interest in Jason's life _after_ the explosion.

And now it was too late. _Way_ too late.

Seeing he had no reply, Jason scoffed, rolling his eyes so hard they ground on the smooth bone of his sockets.

"Just leave me alone. Both of you. If Bruce wants his shit back, tell him to come here himself and get it. And I know he won't make me go to physio or you wouldn't've come in his place." The ex-Robin turned the wheels and then his body around to the computer tables. Not to eye the screens, just to look somewhere else but their direction. They couldn't see how fucking angry it made him to be held in their pitying gazes. They were here because they felt sorry for him. Dick regretted neglecting his successor and was trying to make up for it now. Tim was brought along so he could see what one ill-thought-out misstep in the field could leave him as.

A broken useless parody of Robin.

"You can come home whenever you want, little wing." Dick half-whispered as he took his steps to leave, Tim tagging along in his shadow. _Pft - home_? Fuck him. Dick had some nerve calling the manor that.

From the corner of his vision, Jason warily watched them go and thought about the times he foolishly hung on Dick's heels like Tim did. Jason was naive, blue-eyed enough to believe Dick wanted anything to do with him then. Too bad that wasn't the case now.

A little too much, a little too late.

Sighing, he rubbed his face. _Fuck_.

And all this because he couldn't bloody _walk_. All this since... Since he wasn't _physically_ able to be Robin. Sometimes, Jason couldn't convince himself the Bat didn't hate him for failing but rather for not dying. It would have been simpler for everyone involved. Lose a son, move on with the newest one. Except Bruce couldn't do that for as long as Jason was here.

There was no doubt, Kyle Rayner was the _worst_ fucking thing to ever happen to him. Kyle would think it was for failing to think quick enough to save him the paralysis but Jason didn't hold that against him. Ky did everything he could. No, Jason hated the Lantern for saving him at all.

He _despised_ Kyle so, so, _so_ much for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy last day of Pride month, my LGBTQ+ kin! 🌈❤❤


	3. Must Be A Relapse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jason's thirst cannot be contained!

"- Leave me the fuck alone,  _Kyle!_ " Jason snapped into the receiver, holding the phone on his shoulder while he tried to work but the annoying ass Lantern wouldn't stop  _bothering_  him. This was the seventh time he'd rang in the last hour and there was no emergency.

 _"I just called to ask if you wanted a coffee. I'm at Starbucks_." Kyle  _innocently_  returned but he knew exactly how irritating he was being. And his silky smooth voice with the hot-blooded trace of Latin accent sure as  _fuck_  wasn't helping! Jason had been so pissed off since Ky popped by the other day because  _shit_ , how long had it been since they fucked? Too long...  _Eight_  months. From the day they met, that was by far the longest they hadn't engaged in tension-filled hate railing.

Jason didn't actually  _like_  the Lantern, not as a partner or a friend or even a person so it really wasn't fair how he was occupying his mind at the moment. Feening over him wasn't productive.

" _Yo, Jaybird, you still there_?"

With a start, Jason realised he left Kyle hanging on the line while he was too distracted thinking about those big brown eyes. Shanks & Bigfoot said it best, they were sweet like chocolate. Chocolate that melted from the heat of passion and his crooked smirk with those perfect rosy lips... Dammit,  _stop_  thinking about him!

" _Jason_...?" Ky sing-songed and sounded way too fucking cute doing it. Exhaling, Jason lowered his head into his hand and pulled at his hair to draw out clear thought. A massive part of him wanted to tell Kyle to  _please_  come over and feed Jason's possibly unhealthy method of getting distressing, upsetting things off his mind; good hard no-emotions-attached sex.

Jason was still thinking about what Bruce said to him. He was thinking about everything Dick scolded him over. Tim's pitying eyes. He didn't want to think about it. An hour with Kyle used to clear his mind for a bit, whenever his lovely  _family_  made him feel like a ball of spikes was in his chest.

But another voice in Jason said to just get on with it himself. Unlike the Bats were convinced, he didn't need anyone or their help.

"Rayner, I don't want fucking coffee and I'm hanging up now."

" _But then you're gonna be all sulky when I don't bring you anything_."

"No, I  _won't_  because you're not coming over."

" _I'm literally already on my way, I just stopped for coffee. Now, what do you want_?"

" _Nothing_."

"...  _I'll bring you a cookie_."  _God_ , Jason could see in his mind's eye the way Kyle was nodding to himself right now, pleased with his  _good idea_. The ex-Robin gave another sigh, louder this time, hoping Ky heard it and realised he wasn't helping at all.

But Kyle was Kyle so he did a perfect job feigning ignorance.

" _Chocolate chip or oatmeal raisin_?"

Jason was about to give him a stern talking-to that no sane person would eat the latter but he was distracted when a ping from his surveillance monitor informed him someone or thing had tripped the motion sensors outside.

"Hang on, Ky. Someone's here." Jason distractedly mumbled, setting the phone down on the table and switching loudspeaker on. Frowning to himself, he leaned closer to the monitor and started flicking through camera angles to spot the intruder.

" _Who is it_?" Kyle went from playful and annoying to on alert and slightly anxious... if Jason wasn't mistaken. He was worried just because someone was here? People really thought so lowly of Jason's ability to protect himself...

"Probably Dick again. He swung by earlier with Tim." Jason squinted at the screen when he spotted the people who'd breached his perimeter.  _Not_  Dick and Tim. A trio of men he didn't recognise, climbing out of a red Ford... Hmm. He didn't correct his assumption to Kyle while he zoomed into their faces.

They were surly individuals, bulky and ridiculously muscular like they could snap Batman in half. Haha... That'd be funny.

A plethora of thoughts went through Jason's head, among them being the consideration that those people were simply visiting another of the many warehouses surrounding his HQ. His immediate thought wasn't that they were coming here but that was quickly scrapped out of likeliness when they made a beeline for the side door Kyle used the other day.

Shit. What was this?

" _Jay, what's going on? Where'd you go_?" Kyle asked, his growing concern audible in his voice. Jason had half forgotten that he was still on the line with the Lantern and Kyle could hear the click-clacking of keys over Jason's silence.

"I'm just dealing with something-"  _Bang_! Jason jumped in alarm when the bolted door was dealt a solid kick.  Shooting it a rapid look, unholstering the gun fastened to the wheel, Jason cocked it by the time the next kick landed.

Bang!

" _Who's there with you? What's that noise_?"

"Someone's tryna break in. Hold on, I'll handle it." Leaving the phone and Kyle with it on the table, Jason glided back out of the direct view of the door that would cave with the next kick. He had no idea what he did to piss these guys off or what they wanted, but he guessed it was validated. He annoyed a lot of folks on a basis.

" _You realise you whore out reasons to hate you to very dangerous people and the moment they decide to do something about it, you're helpless to take the consequences_."

God, he  _loved_  Bruce's berating voice in his head, constantly reminding him that he was useless.

Whenever a situation turned hostile, Jason's brain was wired to go into flight or fight long before Bruce turned him into a child soldier. Now neither was an option for him and he needed to rethink how to respond to a situation like this. Luckily, he mentally mapped it out the first time Bruce told him he was unable to defend himself.

Jason didn't even flinch when the door burst back on its hinges and struck the wall twice with a deafening clang. Batman taught Robin how to keep his heart rate steady and controlled at all times and the technique didn't fail him even now that he was useless to Bruce.

Quickly, Jason deduced that if they were breaking in here, to begin with, like  _this_ , then they had no good intentions for him so he really didn't care that he shot the first one to step into sight. Through the leg, not because Jason was merciful or respected Bruce's golden rule, but he was hoping the bastard would drag himself out and save Jason the cleanup of a corpse. It was hard when you were a cripple.

The man screamed when the bullet clipped through his calf, he went down and his friends whipped their guns out. Figures, they were armed.

But did they think Jason  _wasn't_? He had more than just a gun for them to get through. For example, the arm of the wheelchair had a control panel hidden beneath it; Jason flicked a switch that activated the powerful magnets built into the wood of the doorframe. Like magic, the men's weapons were torn from their hands and one was dragged backwards by the chain around his neck. He choked and pulled at the thing but it wasn't letting up.

Finally spotting where Jason was, the remaining thug went for him, only to have a bullet slam into his knee. He howled, a splatter of his own blood streaking across his face.

Jason smirked. Who's useless again?

 _Click_. Metal rolled on metal when the hammer of the gun pressed to Jason's temple was pulled.  _Shit_. There was a fourth guy, wasn't there? One he hadn't seen because he used a different entrance?

Out the corner of his eye, Jason's gaze flitted to the man looming above him. The ex-Robin bared his teeth and scowled in a way he hoped would be threatening in the face of the man who looked to be Bruce's size and strength.  _Yay_.

"For a crippled brat, you sure do cause a lot of trouble." He grumbled, glancing at his grounded friends with some annoyance. Oops. Did Jason strike a nerve by taking them out?

"My dad wouldn't agree with you."

"Your dad isn't here.  _Gun_." He jerked his head and reluctantly obedient, Jason handed the weapon over, well aware what being noncompliant would ensure.  _Crap._  He wasn't saying Bruce was right, but Jason couldn't deny it was dumb of him to not expect anyone from the other door.

The thug stuffed the gun down the back of his jeans while never taking his aim off Jason, ready to blow his brains out if he tried anything. The shit could he do anyway? Certainly not subtly inch his hand to the hidden control that would detonate the bomb in the wall by the door and cause a suitable distraction. Jason had a knife in his hoodie, he could get to it and stab this bastard if he had a heartbeat of an opportunity.

Except a steely hand thrice the size of his own latched onto his wrist, more than big enough to wrap all the way around. His limb was jerked roughly away from what he was trying to reach when the man noticed what he was doing.

"The fuck are you up to?" He spat and Jason did too, though more literally, straight into his fat ugly face. That... Was not wise. Jason's shoulder almost tore from its socket when he was violently yanked out of the chair and held above ground. He instantly started squirming to get free without thinking about how little that would actually accomplish for him, longing for the ability to break his captor's ribs with a well-aimed kick.

Jason's hand shot into his hoodie for the dagger but before he even got close to it, a solid punch landed in his middle like a sack of rocks. He choked - Jesus  _fuck_ , this guy was strong as dragline silk! That was not good. What was Jason gonna do? He was a bit fucking cornered here.

"You wanna play that bad, boy?" He snarled as if he was an angry bear, swinging his arm back and in the same movement, threw Jason. Now, Jason expected to feel the concrete floor on his face so the thud of landing on an arguably softer surface was pleasantly unexpected.

But that was shortlived with the disconcerting realisation that he was thrown onto the bed with the thug approaching him threateningly, a sinister glint in his eye. No... Why?  _Fuck_. Jason thinks the fuck  _not_. His hand darted to the gun beneath the pillow - or would have if the man who rid himself of the chain around his neck hadn't appeared to pin his wrists to the bed.

" _Jesus_ ," Chain-guy panted, surprised at the amount of effort it took to hold someone of Jason's lesser size down. Ferocious, Jason growled when he realised he wasn't pulling his arms free, snapping his teeth up at him.

"Vicious thing, isn't he, Darren?" Chain-guy looked to his friend, occupied with something off screen that Jason couldn't see. It worried him, he wouldn't lie, but he wouldn't let it show, not since he pretended Bruce was watching.

"I'll take care of that, you go break those computers."

 _What_? No. Not  _those_ , Jason fucking  _needed_  his equipment - they had all his data on them, sensitive details about his contracts, all Red required to operate - he couldn't fucking lose them!

" _No_! Don't!" Only now was he scared. Jason jerked against the restraints of hands, thrashing beneath the man.

"Ooh, looks like you worried the termite there." The other smirked. For a moment, the weight on Jason was gone but quickly replaced tenfold. All at once, he was crushed by the suffocating bulk of Darren forcing a way on top of him. Gasping, Jason pressed at his chest and tried to shove the fucker off but he was immensely overpowered.  _Fuck_. Fuck, fuck-

In the background, an iron pipe swung zipping through the air before glass and plastic exploded into sound. That would be the monitors and computers being smashed.

 _Why_?! What the fuck was the purpose of this?

Jason was so busy focusing on his stuff being broken that he didn't notice it when Darren pushed the hem of his shirt up. The ex-Robin's breath hitched as Darren's hand landed on his abdomen and rode the garment backwards along his torso, slowly as if he savoured the brush of skin-on-skin.

"Hey! Get your filthy mitts off me!" Jason snapped, aware Darren had climbed over him onto the bed, parting his legs with a knee between them.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, boy," Darren assured him while he bowed his head. Jason was relieved it wasn't to fucking  _kiss_  him but the alternative wasn't much better. His entire body went rigid when Darren parted his gross lips to lick a long wet stripe down his sternum. His disgusting slimy hot tongue dipped down the incline from Jason's ribs to the taut skin of his lean abdomen. He traced the divots and knots of the scars the iron rod left in him and at this point, Jason's chest was getting tight, flesh bristling the longer he lingered on the scars. He wanted this man off him.

And then Darren went a little lower and planted a kiss on Jason's navel. It kicked discomfort to a whole new level, worsened by Darren's hand moving back and fumbling with the zipper of his jeans.

"You won't even feel me, boy. You're crippled, ain't ya?"

Jason twisted beneath him and hit at him as hard as he could while being barely able to breathe past how heavy he was.

"Daren, this is fucked, man. He's a kid." Chain-guy had finished busting up the computers to stand by, concerned as he watched but not so much so that he'd do a thing to stop it. The men of this city were a fucking plague.

"The guy said to scare 'im, didn't he?" Guy? What fucking  _guy_?

"This is scaring him."

Darren's revolting hand was just about slipping into Jason's jeans when with a loud buzz of energy, a white beam of light burst from the doorway and slammed into Chain-guy. He screamed, hurled into the wall and alarmed, Darren stopped ravishing Jason to look in the direction of the angry White Lantern.

In the time he was distracted, and his grip was lessened, Jason's fingers rocketed to the gun beneath the pillow and without taking proper aim, he shot up at Darren. As many bullets as he thought it would take, he rammed them into the man's chest. A gush of crimson exploded over Jason, Darren's incredibly heavy body slumped on top of him.

It was  _horrible_. To have all that weight on him, drenched in sticky hot life fluids, struggling to breathe, it took him way back to being trapped beneath the broken warehouse with an iron rod in his abdomen.

Panic set in for a heartbeat but only that, as just like before, Kyle came to save him. God, Ky was strong - it's like he didn't even have to put in an effort to throw Darren clear off Jason. Red splattered over his white crest in ugly stains, the way Jason blurrily remembered it when he was carried away from the place that sought to be his grave.

Panting, Jason's chest heaved rapidly with the flashbacks and he struggled to sit, lean back on his arms and just  _breathe_. There was blood  _everywhere_. On the sheets, the bed, his clothes and skin, there might even be some in his  _mouth_.

"Whoa, Jaybird, it's okay. I'm here. Ky's here." Kyle's feather-light hands came onto his shoulders and held them there against his shaking with a firmer grip. He made a good attempt to put his arms around Jason, except Jason didn't want it to happen so he slapped Kyle away.

" _No_. No,  _don't_. I'm f - fucking  _fine_." He insisted unconvincingly. He wanted to be alone as he always did, more so now than ever, now that he needed to get those memories out of his head. They didn't apply here.

Jason actually tried to push off the bed but somehow forgot he couldn't stand and fell forward. Lightning fast, Kyle caught him, strong arms wrapping tightly around his chest and midriff. Jason tried to hit him again, violently, but Kyle took his wrist before his hand could make contact.

"Jay,  _stop_  it." He said, very stern, big brown eyes hard with his scowl. Jason realised Kyle wasn't holding him upright and it was, in fact, white energy encircling him, flowing from the alien power ring on Kyle's finger.

"I'm just tryna help you." Ky went on and Jason couldn't overlook the tingle of energy on his skin. It felt weird but it was... Safe. It reminded him of the agony of trying to breathe past the rebar puncturing his abdominal cavity, the livewire burning every nerve ending to a crisp, then the flood of white that took the pain with it.

"Kyle, please, I - I just wanna get-" by chance, Jason's gaze lead to glance towards his computers and his heart  _sank_. His equipment - all of it, it was smashed to bits, plastic, glass and wires tangled up in one massive fucking mess. The data was destroyed, everything he had on his clients and contracts gone with it.

"Nh.. No." Jason whimpered. He... He needed that equipment or he couldn't do his job - how was he gonna help more people who no one else would or work his contracts with no tech?  _None_  of it looked salvageable.

Kyle looked towards the source of Jason's distress, chewing his lip when he returned his gaze.

"We'll get it fixed, Jay. All of it. Don't worry." He took Jason's chin and tilted his head up a fraction. Jason wouldn't admit it but Kyle and his white Lantern light was a comfort. His mind was associating it with the abrupt end of pain on that night.

"Are you hurt?" He visually skimmed over the blood but saw none of it originated from Jason.

"Who are these people?"

"I don't know, Ky. They... They said there was some guy who paid them to scare me." And they didn't succeed in that goal, Jason might add, they only accomplished triggering his PTSD.

"Who would do that....?" Kyle murmured thoughtfully, troubled.

"I don't know that either but we have to get rid of these bodies. I... I don't like them being here." The stench of blood and death weren't sitting well with Jason, especially filling his home. The mess wasn't alright either. It made him anxious. Only Darren remained, the ones left alive had dragged themselves away with their lives intact. And they should be so fucking lucky.

But there was still blood everywhere and bullets in the walls.

"I'll clean it up, Jay." Kyle said. His voice was calm but Jason could see past it to his angry, protective interior that couldn't stand to see Jason harmed... Why? They weren't even friends.

"But you gotta get washed up. You're covered in that gross fucker's blood." They both were but the red didn't seep through Kyle's kevlar to his skin as easily as it came through Jason's flimsy tee shirt. At least, the Lantern was aware of how much he didn't like being messy like this.

"C'mon," Kyle floated him over to the bathroom and set Jason down in the bath itself. The white sides turned orangey where Jason's blood-soaked skin and clothes brushed by it.

His heart rate wasn't as drastic now that Kyle was here, Jason didn't want to think about why. Maybe it reminded him he wasn't at the explosion site. But Jason jumped when Kyle's fingers hooked the hem of his shirt and tried to lift it.

"The fuck are you doing?" He demanded defensively, not thinking about his tone before it came out.

"Calm down, I'm tryna help." Kyle moved his hands back despite his claim. Oh right. Jason was on edge after what just happened, his brain immediately told him ' _threat!_ ' when Kyle touched him, even when that was ridiculous.

"And it's not like I've never seen you naked before."

"S... Sorry." Jason mumbled, twisting his fingers into burning contortions. They may not be friends but he needed to keep telling himself Kyle was one of the few - if not the  _only_  - people he could trust.

And then that got him thinking, who couldn't he trust? Because... Other than Kyle, the only people who knew where he lived was Bruce, Dick, and Tim.

One of them fucking did this. One of them had to and his money was on Bruce. That rich fucking... 'Scare him', the thugs said. Paid to  _scare_  him. Now,  _who_  would want him scared and admitting to being unable to take care of himself?

Thinking dark thoughts, Jason hastily undressed and got washed while Kyle disposed of the corpse. Lantern of life ditching dead bodies... Jason knew Kyle didn't agree with killing but he didn't make Jason feel like shit just because their beliefs differed. The man was a goddamn saint.

And Jason wouldn't put it past Bruce to be behind this. He didn't at all. With how mad he was the other day coupled with the ex-Robin looting his data files, he could have well been willing to take things this far. Breaking in, beating him up, that was all fine and dandy but fucking destroying his equipment? Bruce was tryna cripple him in a whole new way.

_"I'm not going to do anything drastic that you haven't brought on yourself."_

Soonish, Kyle brought him over some fresh clothes but Jason wasn't bothered with them, not when he already knew he wouldn't need them. Bruce was gonna be sorry. Bruce was so gonna be fucking sorry for this but first, Jason wanted his remedy. He fucking  _needed_  it. Clear thought to enact his response, Bruce was getting in his damn head again with this derogatory remarks.

_"One of these days, Jason, you're going to push the limit too far. Do you think I won't take action just because you used to be Robin? You push, and I push so watch it."_

When Kyle leaned close, Jason grabbed him around his neck and kissed him roughly.

This must be what a relapse feels like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like my Jasons self-deprecating, hyper sexual and full of mental issues he needs years of therapy for. But this latest shit.... can I get a fuck Bruce?


	4. Candied Apples

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Rayner... Are you seriously worried you've knocked me up?"

It was rough. With Jason, it always was. He liked it that way. Kyle didn't ever object and he couldn't deny, last night with the ex-Robin felt like a relapse on Jason's part. Akin to an addict shooting up heroin when something upsetting occurred, and yesterday certainly applied.

Thoughtfully, Kyle dropped a kiss into Jason's hair, still a bit damp from the bath he took just hours ago. Uncharacteristically, Jason was nuzzled up against Kyle's chest with one of the Lantern's arms around his shoulders to ensure he wouldn't roll away. Jaybird was fast asleep, the dark feathery lashes of exceptional length fallen lightly shut. If he were awake, Jason would never let Kyle hold onto him like this, _cuddle_ , as it were. There would be plenty of 'fuck offs' and other such niceties. Jason knew a lot of curse words...

It could be seen as sick - no, it probably was sick, that they were laid out on a bed that was pink in patches after the bloody sheets were torn off. Jason didn't want to properly clean up, he just wanted lots and lots of sex as fast as Kyle could give it to him. It was a little bit worrying actually, as was the way Jason seemed to confuse pleasure and pain for one and the same.

But then, Jason had always been like that. Willing to breeze over all trouble and trauma with enough physical intimacy.

No... Intimacy was a bad word for it. There was no emotion involved with Jay, much like in most things he did. A coping mechanism was all it was. The Lantern wouldn't be surprised if Jay was hypersexual on account of his less than wholesome childhood. _Boy_ , wasn't his teen years making up for it?

If Kyle could take last night back... Don't get him wrong, he loved being with Jason. Who wouldn't? He was twenty kinds of gorgeous. But... He was obviously rattled up over what happened yesterday, engaging him was probably not the best, _healthiest_ option. Then again, Kyle knew better than to critique Jason's ways of getting by. He didn't want to risk anything that would get him kicked out of his hard-to-come-by position in the inner circle.

Jay was difficult like that.

Beneath the covers, Kyle slid his hand over the taut muscle of Jason's belly, subconsciously tracing the web of pink hard scars with the point of his finger. He was thinking.

The Lantern had been awake since the small hours, pondering about what happened with those mystery thugs. It had him feeling some kinda way when over the phone, he could just hear yelling and gunshots after Jason vanished off the line. The last time Kyle broke the sound barrier like that was when Jason was captured by that fucking clown.

He only flew like that because of Jason.

Of course, the ex-Robin was above capable of holding his own even without his legs, but the one bastard who jumped him got close to doing some real damage. Yet it didn't seem like Jason was really all that bothered that there was a grown man literally drooling over him. He was just upset that his computers were wrecked. He had a possessive streak a mile long, the surest way to get beneath his skin was to break his stuff.

Kyle wouldn't be surprised if Jason didn't care that those men could have easily killed him. He was fairly impartial to the concept of death. Another worrying trait to his character.

The Lantern tilted Jason's face ever-so-slightly in his direction and kissed the former Robin tenderly, slipping part of his tongue past the soft pliant lips. Unlike Jason, Kyle liked involving shreds of emotion in this dysfunctional game of theirs and this was the only way to kiss Jay without bruises and split mouths.

Jason always tasted oddly sweet... Like a candied apple, though the copious amounts of Monster he was killing his kidneys with might be the blame. Still, the taste was distinctly _Jason_.

There was one very troubling question on Kyle's mind. No one outside of the family knew where Jason lived. Jay was way too good at his hacker shit to ever accidentally let his IP address or location be visible to anyone with malice towards him, so it couldn't be one of the numerous people he pissed off. Besides, he operated fairly anonymously to the point where the majority didn't know he existed. This wasn't to do with his Red persona.

Pulling away from Jason, Kyle mulled it all over while he traced the corner of Robin's lip with his thumb, gazing at him with eyes far removed from the moment.

Dick would never do something like this. Tim was completely out of the question, he idolised Jason, no matter Jason wanted him to die violently. But _Bruce_..... Fuck, Kyle despised he couldn't say for complete certainty that this was beyond him.

In the past, the Bat had done things that crossed the line to convey a point. Many times. If he thought it would make Jason see light, he would go even this far. Though by 'scare him', Bruce may not have known that Darren guy would plan on... Ugh. Bruce better fucking pray that wasn't part of it. Then again, if Kyle was right, the man employed moralless street thugs to attack his _paralysed_ sixteen-year-old son, the hell kinda outcome did he expect?

Jason wasn't dumb, despite what Bruce said. He must have figured it out too and that was the reason he suddenly wanted to go to bed. Jason only did that when he was really upset or angry. Or both.

Kyle was aware he was being used but he didn't mind. Not when it was Jason. He owed him that much, didn't he?

Idly, the Lantern moved his hand and with it, the covers partially. He caught a flash of black and purple bruising on Jason's midriff, big scary looking bruises he hadn't seen the night before due to... Other occupations.

"What the hell, Jason?!" Kyle sat bolt upright. He didn't mean to yell or wake Jason with such a violent start, but seeing those marks, he couldn't help it.

"Why the fuck are you shouting, Rayner?" Jason groggily demanded, rubbing his eyes with both palms. He sat up a little stiffly. The fact that he was nude just highlighted the visible ridges of his ribs, rising sharply from beneath his pale skin with other bones. His strong athletic body was a memory of the past.

Kyle removed the blanket over Jason's stomach and gestured to the massive bruises that were worrying him.

"What's this?"

Blinking at odd times, Jason looked at the marks, unbothered, his blank blue eyes dull with tiredness and disinterest.

"I got nailed in the gut once or twice yesterday. It's nothing." Jason explained without interest or care while he moved his arms to shift to the edge of the bed. The second he did, Jason flinched violently, a small sharp gasp escaping his lips. His hand buzzed with tremors as he went to lay it over the scars directly above his spine.

"What's wrong? Are you sore?" Kyle leaned over, brow creased with a worried frown.

"I don't know if you've ever had a dick pushed into you before, Kyle, but that shit hurts after. So _yes_." He ground his jaw as he explained, rubbing circles into his vertebrae in hopes of alleviating the throbbing ache. It was visible pain that Kyle saw on his features, not just the side effects of a night's activities.

"You're lying." The Lantern observed sternly.

"Your stomach's black with bruises and your back's fucked. We should go see Dr Thompkins, Jay." Kyle couldn't believe he didn't think of that yesterday, it's just that Jason seemed alright. These bruises hadn't formed then, he was sure.

"Like fuck we should. I'm _fine_." Jason insisted with bite but he was only fooling himself.

"Does this hurt?" With his fingers, Kyle pressed a small impression into Jason's belly and Jason drew a quick hiss of breath. It wasn't hard at all and it had him whimpering like a booted dog.

"Quit fucking poking me!" Jason swatted him away with a very in-character burst of violence. Kyle caught his hand and curled his own around it, enveloping the slightly smaller limb. Because of his explosive attitude and massive anger issues, Kyle sometimes forgot he was bigger than Jason, as well as a little bit older. Even though, eight months ago, the former Robin could have mopped the floor with him.

"We're going to go see Les," Kyle calmly began, holding onto his authority but what a joke that was. No one had authority over this particular sixteen-year-old.

"And you should get dressed 'cause we don't wanna scar that poor woman. She's seen enough shit with you bats."

" _Excommunicated_ bat." Jason corrected with a bitter grumble, jerking himself free from Kyle's grip.

"That word doesn't apply." The Lantern pointed out. His reply was a vicious leer, unparalleled by anything in creation. If looks could kill... With a faint smile, Kyle pecked a kiss onto Jason's lips, the corners turned down with his scowl, and he was treated to an outraged slap. Or the attempt of one.

A white light construct shaped like a hand caught Jason's wrist. He curled his fingers into a fist, glaring ferociously. He knew before trying that his measly mortal strength was useless against the alien power ring.

Smiling at him, Kyle let him go, rose and tossed Jason his fallen clothes off the floor while he gathered his own. He slipped his legs into the cold sleeves of his jeans and tugged the zipper up. Soon, he heard Jason exhale, frustrated as he difficultly got dressed. Kyle wanted to offer his help but that might just get him castrated.

Jason would do everything himself, even if it was hard and took him a while.

"Bruce sent those guys..." Jay grumbled while he pulled a shirt over his head. It dishevelled his hair, frizzy bangs hanging in his face, half over his eyes.

"We don't know that, Jay." Kyle told him, over half sure he was lying. He just didn't want Jason to focus harder on vengeance than recovery.

"Yes, we do."

"Do you have proof?"

"Don't need it." He smoothed his hair and finished getting clothed by pulling his trademark Christmas themed socks on. Kyle got them as a gag gift, never expecting Jason to religiously wear them thereafter.

Kyle pulled the wheelchair over to him from the other side of the room, where it had been too far for Jason to reach. Jason didn't thank him or even give him a grateful look but Kyle didn't take it personally. Jason was just... Jason.

"Come on, Jaybird." A white energy tendril from Kyle's ring wound its way around Jason and picked him up, lifting him into the chair. He didn't look happy about it.

"I didn't need your help." Jason muttered as he glided past, sending Kyle a dark look from the corner of his eye.

Kyle sighed.

"I know."

* * *

 

"Okay, lay down." The doctor instructed Jason, unhappy to see him in her clinic again, on her examination table.

"I know the drill, Les." Jason grumbled, reclining back against the table in question and rolling his shirt up, exposing the white skin, mess of swollen bruises and yellowish blue tinged hickeys from the night before. Jason was utterly shameless when Leslie's gaze skimmed over them from behind her glasses but Kyle, spectating, felt like he might die of embarrassment. The elderly woman cocked a brow at him with a unnameable glimmer in her grey eyes, lips drawn thin. She was making the Lantern shrink back like no alien monster ever could.

"Jason, I thought I told you to withhold from anything too exerting for your body." Leslie scolded when she returned her attention to Jason, her latex-gloved hands holding a bottle of gel. She squeezed a generous dollop onto her fingers and started rubbing it over Jason's belly in circles. He hissed from the coldness of it, tensing a fraction with his grip tightening around the hem of his rolled-up shirt.

"I thought I told you I wasn't gonna listen."

"And look where that got you." Leslie sounded like a reproving mother, shooting him a hard look before she removed her gloves with a sharp snap and reached for some kind of ultrasonic sensor on the instrument table beside them. She lowered it onto the slicked up surface of his skin and started moving it, watching the monitor beside them come up with an image. It was grey and fuzzy, difficult to make sense of at first but Kyle had watched enough Jane the Virgin to recognise an ultrasound machine.

"Isn't that for like... _Pregnant_ people?" Kyle awkwardly inquired, out of his comfort zone here and Jason cocked a brow when glancing at him, lifting his head slightly off the table.

"Rayner... Are you seriously worried you've knocked me up?"

"No!" The Lantern exclaimed with a wild rush of colour spreading through his cheeks.

"I just - I didn't know that machine is used-"

"It can be used to examine the abdominal cavity and surrounding bones and organs." Leslie explained, a faint trace of a smile in her voice that made Kyle want to crawl into the earth and be devoured by it. He knew that. Of course, he knew that.

Jason was smirking like the little shit he was when he fully laid back down. Well, at least he was amused.

"You're such a fuckin' idiot, Rayner..."

"Hmm..." Leslie chewed her lip, ignoring them as she examined the black and grey shapes on the monitor that must be Jason's abdomen on the interior. Kyle thought it was _very_ strange to look at. None of it appeared organic and he wouldn't be surprised if Jason was only human on the outside. The shit he survived with a graze was honestly impressive by anyone's standards.

"I don't see any serious damage. Heavy bruising, mild internal bleeding, you'll be tender for a while but it's not dangerous so long as you're sensible." Leslie finished that with a warning look to both Jason and Kyle. The Lantern felt he would be very sorry if he disobeyed that. Very sorry indeed.

"And you seem to have partially sprained your vertebrae by the old breaks, which explains the pain in your back. You'll be fine if you avoid gymnastics in the bedroom." Kyle cringed. Hearing an elderly woman discussing the details of his and Jason's sex life was painful.

Leslie pulled a handful of tissues from the box on the instrument table and gave them to Jason.

"Of course I will." Jason wiped the gel into the tissues, leaving a large glistening patch on his belly. Kyle had an urge to kiss him right there...

"Me sleeping with Kyle isn't happening again as a whole. It was a one-off." As he spoke and cleaned himsef up, he gestured to Kyle, standing by.

"I mean, _look_ at him. You think I'm in a hurry to have that inside me?"

"You _certainly_ didn't mind last night." Defensive, Kyle folded his arms over his chest, tipping his head up a fraction.

"Don't remind me." Jay groaned, rubbing his face like he was in chronic pain. Kyle didn't know what he was talking about, except that Jason always did this walk-of-shame thing where he swore it would never happen again after they had sex, only to relapse later. In that department, he'd been doing oddly well though.

Kyle didn't know who Jason had been sharing his nights with during those months he was on a Lantern break but there was _someone_. It was foolish to expect Jason could go for months without and although Kyle didn't like it, he had to be okay with Jason distributing his time between varying people.

Because he didn't do exclusivity.

While Jason got himself off the table, Leslie drew Kyle aside, out of earshot in the hallway.

"Someone attacked him, didn't they?" She asked in a low serious voice. Kyle glanced through the doorway at Jason, minding his own business as he zippered his hoodie up.

"Yeah. Some street thugs. They broke in and busted his stuff up." Kyle deliberately left out the part about Bruce possibly being behind the whole thing. That would make Leslie bring brimstone and cannon balls down on the Bat and while that was warranted, this wasn't her fight.

Leslie chewed on her lip, anxious.

"He got lucky, Kyle. Those men could have seriously hurt him if you hadn't been there. That's why... I want you to stay with him."

"Wh - what?" Kyle's eyes widened. He knew he heard that right but _what_?

"Until Jason recovers fully, I want you so stay with him and make sure he's safe. If those thugs come back, he'll be in even more danger and if he gets throw around again, he could break his back a second time. Those fractures are delicate. Which _means_ ," Leslie grew even more grave than she already was, making Kyle tense in expectancy.

"No rough stuff. If you and Jason want to have sex, do it carefully."

Kyle blew his cheeks out. Jason was gonna have a problem with that. A big problem. Gentle sex was the one thing he despised more than Bruce. He wasn't sure Jason would even allow him to linger around if there was no sex involved.

But Kyle didn't want to risk Jaybird being hurt again... Or worse this time. Those men might come back. Bruce might try something new. Having personally dragged the ex-Robin back from death's door, Kyle felt a certain responsibility for him.

"Alright, Les. He's not gonna like it but I'll... Watch him."

* * *

 

"I won't be long, Rayner." Jason let him know as he pushed the car door shut with a thud. He didn't let Kyle say anything because he really wasn't here for it. He was here - at Wayne Manor - for a quick visit. It was no coincidence, of course, that Bruce wasn't home at the moment. Jason would kill him if he saw that man, he couldn't hold himself back.

He felt Kyle watching him in concern as he drifted around the Manor to the back door, where there was no steep staircase or high threshold bar he couldn't get his wheels over.

Jason hadn't given his key back yet, he let himself easily into the dark, empty building. Tim was at school. Dick didn't live here. Bruce was at work and Alfred was probably out running errands around the city. No one was here to ask him questions or raise a brow.

Jason headed immediately for the elevator to the cave and once at the cave itself, made sure no one was present. Then he fixed his sights on the wall of computers that Bruce _desperately_ needed to operate.

He smirked to himself.

Along with the key, Jason didn't return his utility belt to Bruce after he was made to hang up the cape, no matter how much the old man tried to make him. That shit was _his_. He fought for it, he almost died for it, he was keeping it.

But the reason that was relevant was simple; there was a reinforced iron vial of extremely corrosive acid in one of the compartments. It was intended to be used to get through bars and cast iron doors and such, but he bet he'd find a new use.

The belt was slung over the back of the wheelchair, Jason took the vial into his hand and cast the computers a look.

An eye for an eye. This wouldn't cripple Bruce's operations entirely, he could use any of the equipment at the Wayne Tower, but it would _inconvenience_ him. Hehe.

Uncorking the vial, Jason covered his lower face with his sleeve against the strong burning stench rising from it, and raised it over the first computer. The moment the acid touched the hard plastic exterior, it began eating it away with a loud hissing, revealing the wires and circuit boards inside.

Jason moved around, emptying the acid out onto every piece of equipment that matched what the thugs broke. Or really, it was Bruce who broke it. And he knew how much Jason depended on it. If he could carry any of this shit, he'd just loot the cave to replace his stuff.

Jason was destroying the last keyboard when a vice of a hand shot around the back of his neck. Jason would recognise his dear daddy's iron grip anywhere, even before he was jerked back, wheels struggling to keep up with how quickly he was turned.

And there was Bruce, angry as hell, expression black like coal.

"What the hell are you doing, _Jason_?" He furiously demanded through his set jaw. His fingers tightened around Jason's neck, fitting almost all the way around, his thumb pressing into his windpipe.

Despite his shortage of breath, Jason grinned wryly up at Bruce. He was grinning because just as fast as Bruce grabbed him, he'd whipped his firearm out and had it pressed to the uncolwed Bat's abdomen. His finger was lightly sitting on the trigger, willing to pull back at any wrong half breath.

"Let go of me or I'll fucking kill you."

Glaring, Bruce only squeezed like he wanted to crush all the life moving through his son's throat.

But then he let go. To be honest, Jason wasn't sure he would. He was only half relieved he did

"Why are you here?" Bruce muttered darkly as he stepped away, his back to Jason, fists clenching. He couldn't be any less happy to see his son.

"Why the fuck do you think, pops?" The ex-Robin rubbed at his throat where Bruce left a mark, voice a little scratchy. His eyes narrowed on his would-be father, never relinquishing hold of the gun.

"I know you hired those goons to trash my place. Bet you feel really good about it too. It's not enough to get me crippled and pretend I don't exist, but you gotta top it off with breaking my stuff, don't you?"

Bruce didn't confirm and he didn't deny. He also didn't ask what Jason was talking about and that alone was quite enough.

Seeing he wouldn't even do the courtesy of admitting to it, Jason spat at him.

" _Fuck_ _you_. You know one of them _forced_ himself on me? I know you think that's okay 'cause I had a shitty childhood and had to do shit to survive but it's _not_ okay. If Kyle hadn't been there-"

"Kyle _Rayner_?" Bruce cocked a disapproving brow, finally making it known he was listening. Typical, he perfectly ignored the thing about Darren.

"You're still spending your time with Green Lantern's failed sidekick? Jason, he's the reason you're in that chair." Oh hell no. He did _not_ just blame Kyle for this.

"You do _not_ get to pull that card." Jason angrily retorted, actually hitting the arm of the chair.

" _You're_ why I'm fucking useless now. _Not_ Kyle. He saved me when you weren't there. He's still there when you couldn't care less!"

"He's bad for you. He wouldn't be in your vicinity if you weren't so goddamn easy to get into bed. You'll take your clothes off for half-eaten French fries." Bruce stated matter-of-factly, never acknowledging a word from Jason's lips. Scowling at the gun in his hand, Jason pretended that comment didn't sting. _Sure_ , why would anyone want to be in his presence for any other reason than to get into his pants?

Daddy really just called him a _slut_.

But Jason wasn't going to continue arguing about Kyle, it wouldn't get him anywhere with how fucking stubborn his daddykins was. Bruce had this retarded idea that Ky was corruptive or some shit.

"So... You're not gonna say you didn't hire those thugs 'cause you would never risk hurting me?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to state that Kyle is a stupid head for indulging Jason in his self-destructive sexpeditions, even if he doesn't know the extent of Jason's current mental unwellness. Jason isn't known for having healthy coping mechanisms and reckless sex is actually a very common coping mechanism, call it healthy or not.
> 
> And fuck Bruce.


	5. Dragline Silk

His hands resting on the steering wheel, Kyle stared through the windshield at Wayne Manor. He was too deep in thought to wonder why Jason was taking so long.

He was thinking about the last time he was here... _before_ Bruce forbade him from coming within a hundred yards of the front gate. That was eight months ago, when he stumbled into the courtyard with Jason in his arms, the both of them drenched in his blood. It was shock or confused desperation that lead him to this place instead of the nearest hospital, maybe he thought this was the best place for the then-Robin. What a fucking joke that was. A right woeful misconception.

At breakneck speed, he flew here from the site of the explosion and landed so heavily he almost tripped. Jason wasn't bleeding out anymore but he was unconscious, wounds sealed shut by the ring's power. At the time, Jason's Robin suit was cut and charred away in large pieces, revealing his burnt, lacerated skin. His injuries weren't quite scars or marks, but fingers of eerie white light shining along the recent partings of his flesh. Kyle could feel the energy connecting them then, flowing through him, through Jason, and feeding unto itself. 

It was the most intense sensation... Feeling someone's every breath and thump of their heart, the red streams of life thrumming through their veins and being connected by every nerve to it all. It was symbiotic. Indescribable to _feel_ someone so completely.

And with that tantalising energy wrapping him the likes of which he'd never felt, truly connected to Jason after saving his life, he didn't notice Bruce run out at once. And Alfred was right behind, eyes blown wide with panic.

 _"What the hell have you done?!"_ Bruce screamed at him when he set his gaze on the limp figure in Kyle's arms, accusations burning into him. He snatched Jason to himself as if he cared at all.

Bruce fully blamed the Lantern for Jason's near-death and paralysis, never mind it was Joker who beat him and why... Why was Bruce at the Manor and not burning rubber to get to his son?

It disturbed Kyle. It disturbed him very much. He'd been under the impression that the Bat _was_ on his way to save Jason, seeing as how he was with him on a mission when Jay was caught. He _knew_ Jason was in serious trouble.

And he wasn't saving him.

Jason was unconscious for three weeks after the explosion, he didn't know Bruce was hanging out at the manor while he was getting his brains bashed out and Kyle never told him.  He couldn't.

Truth be told, Kyle was quite certain he hated that fucking man more than Jason did. 

Because Jason didn't know the nitty-gritty details. Bruce might well believe that Robin should be able to help himself get out of any predicament, and if he couldn't, then he deserved whatever came.

In this instance, it was Jason getting captured, beaten and paralysed.

A sharp knock on the door snapped Kyle out of his thoughts. He glanced out the window at Jason, who'd snuck up on him, pretty much.

"Help me get this fucking thing in." Jason snapped, as bad-tempered as was his nature but there was something in him that went beyond that... Trace amounts of bitter sadness. His pretty blue eyes were heavy with emotion he tried to hide. It hurt Kyle, honestly, to see him upset.

It couldn't have gone well with that Bat bastard. It never did. Kyle _knew_ he shouldn't have driven Jason here.

Silently getting out of the car, he went around to the other side to fold the wheelchair and put it in the trunk. With effort, Jaybird lifted himself into the car, relying entirely on his impressively strong arms. The Lantern loaded the chair and returned to the driver's side, shut the door, waited a moment in the thick silence then turned to Jason.

"What did he say?" Kyle was reluctant to know but he wanted to hear how the fucker hurt Jay this time.

Back pressed to the seat and staring through the windshield at nothing, Jason was as motionless as a terracotta warrior until he moved to shrug half-heartedly.

"Pretty much confessed to hiring the thugs, called me a useless whore, and said you wouldn't be here if I wasn't a bitch in heat."  Holy shit. _Of course_ , Bruce did that. Kyle bit his tongue against the angry flood of words trying to spew from his mouth. Fucking _idiot_. Where the hell did he get off talking to his son like that?

"You know that's not true, though, right? Neither of those is." Kyle did have to consciously keep his voice from expressing his poisonous thoughts. It wouldn't do any good to let Jason know he was furious. He wanted so badly to tear Bruce limb from limb.... But it went against his Corps' honour code. He had to choose his ring or choose an eye-for-an-eye.

This was the selfish choice, maybe.

Instead of replying, Jason shrugged a second time as if he wasn't sure at all why Kyle hung around. It made Kyle solemn all the way to his bones.

The Lantern sighed and slung his arm over the back of Jason's seat, therefore around his shoulders quite deliberately. He drew the ex-Robin close enough to place a kiss onto his temple, fingers drifting through his multicoloured hair. Jason was more upset than Kyle had thought for him to willingly come into a half-embrace like this.

"Bruce is full of shit, Jase. Remember, you always tell me that?" He rested his head against Jason's, foreheads touching while his hand had slid from the back of his head to rest on his neck.

"He's Batman. He knows everything."  Jay quietly said, his soft unhappy breaths brushing against Kyle warmly.

"Don't be ridiculous." Kyle tilted his chin up and pushed their mouths together tenderly, increasingly worried when Jason didn't pull back and tell him he was being fucking sappy.

"Just drive, Kyle." Jason mumbled as he moved away and slumped against the seat, gazing at Wayne Manor in all its desolation. For a brief spell, it appeared as if a tall imposing figure watched them back from one of the dark windows.

* * *

 

"Hey, Dick?" Tim's voice broke the silence like the late rising sun did the dark Autumn horizon. Eyelids heavy after a night of crime fighting and no sleep, Dick turned his head to gaze wearily at Robin through his mask.

"Working hours, Robin." He reminded, ever vigilant. Immediately realising his mistake, Tim nodded rapidly with an apologetic slew of 'ohs' and 'sorries'.

" _Nightwing_." Tim corrected hastily.

"What is it?" Dick asked when returning his gaze to a waking Gotham. Up here, on the ledge of the sixtieth storey of Wayne Tower, where the gargoyles watched over the city, one could see as far as Bludhaven in the North. He missed his home. The flush of soft golden light filling the streets only made him long for it more.

Gotham was cold and cruel and twisted in ways that shouldn't be allowed out of the nightmare realm. And the people were worse, certain people in particular. 

And he _missed_ Kori and Mar'i. He wanted to be there with them, not here.

"It's about... _Jason_." Tim was hesitant to speak the name, cautiously testing the waters of consequence. Dick couldn't help but unenthusiastically wonder if Bruce had snapped at the kid again for asking about his predecessor.

"What about Jason?"

Tim was visibly relieved when his question didn't receive a sharp tone. He was more at ease to go on.

"Why doesn't he live at the Manor? It'd be easier and safer for him, I think."

"It wouldn't. He doesn't get along with B."

"Why not?" Tim's mask disgruntled as his brows knit in confusion. At his naivety alone, Dick smiled without emotion. Tim was only twelve, he didn't get it. He didn't get that Jason's wounds were still raw when he was given Robin's cape and that it hurt worse than any clown with a crowbar. Bruce was so crass and unsympathetic with Jason after he lost his legs and Dick couldn't figure out how one guy could be so awful.

It was so fucking messed up.

But Dick wanted to shelter Tim from the truth of it.

"Because Jason is hurting and Bruce doesn't understand. They've always locked horns but it got worse after Jason had his accident."

"... Wasn't an accident, though, right?"

Dick's lips drew into a thin taut line and again, he turned his head towards the horizon.

"No, it wasn't." It was a horrifying thought that plagued Dick often, to imagine what Jason had to live with now. He felt most alive and free when he was zipping through the moonlit city, unburdened and unharnessed. It was the only way to _escape_. He couldn't live without being able to do that. And Jason always relied on his body to be his everything, his defence and protection, his means and his methods, and now it was his bane. How did he do it? How did he keep going?

It was nothing short of pure fiery willpower. Unquestionably, Jason was a better Robin than Dick, he wouldn't be ashamed to admit. Little wing was stronger.

"You know, Tim," Dick began on a new topic, intentionally leaving the code names behind. They were impersonal.

"Bruce will tell you to do better than Jason and not end up like him." He turned to face the kid and Tim looked up at him, eyes big with expectation for what he might say. Inwardly, Dick allowed himself to feel guilt over always treating Jason no better than Bruce now did when he looked up at him like that, so full of childlike hopefulness and adoration.

If he could take that back, he would have, a thousand times already.

"... But you _need_ to be like Jason. Not be Jason, _like_ him. He's angry and hateful but before that, he's the single strongest person I know. He's smart and determined, there's no obstacle he can't get over, even while crippled. He's what it means to be Robin." Dick fully meant that, every damn word down to the last letter. He wanted Tim to learn from his mistakes and protect him the way he should have done with Jason. Maybe if he'd done a thing to keep the boy safe, he wouldn't have been near that fucking clown. 

"But Jason doesn't even like me..." Tim unhappily admitted, gaze falling to his feet as he scuffed at the ground with them.

"He wouldn't want me to copy him."

"It's not copying, it's taking an _example_."

"But... Why do I gotta do that?"

At his innocent question, Dick grimly stared off in the direction of Wayne Manor, the brush of the wind on his face like the breath of a sinister poltergeist uttering a silent warning.

"Because if you don't, you won't survive."

* * *

 

On the edge of a high crate, sketchbook and pen forgotten, Kyle had been sitting in silence for hours now, watching Jason as he worked. A pen welder in his hand and a darkening mask to protect his eyes, the former Robin was bent over a circuit board on his work table, fusing together the teeny broken pieces with the magnesium spark of the welder.

Apparently, it got hot, working with that tool so Jason had opted to take his shirt off - which was quite torturous for Kyle, the Lantern would admit. Small pearls of sweat made Jason's beautiful fair skin glisten, tarnished only by the rises of scars. It was so smooth and kissable.

And it didn't help at all that he was sucking on a lolly. Bright red and cherry flavour, a faint trace of the colour staining his lips every time he took the sweet out of his mouth to lick it. He then licked the leftover taste off his lips and Kyle _so_ wanted to lick it for him. Eyes riveted, Kyle watched Jason run his velvety tongue along the lolly's exterior, and he was increasingly aware his brain was gasping for blood. _Fuck_...

The worst of it, he didn't think Jason was intending to be sexually provocative. After whatever altercation happened with Bruce, Kyle expected Jason to want him to bang it out of his head the way he always did. But no. He hadn't done anything to engage, going against every fibre his personality was comprised of.

It had to be because of what Bruce said. Calling him a whore and claiming in all his stupidity, that Kyle was only here for Jason's body. Which was _not_ true. He was begrudgingly attracted to Jason even when he wore that bulky armoured Robin suit that left a whole lot to the imagination.

And even if he thought Jason was the ugliest thing alive and they weren't having sweet, _sweet_ sex, he'd still be here. That White Lantern light that flowed through them both then connected them even now.  He felt it, though so much less intensely.

Speaking of, Kyle's gaze moved on from mentally pushing his dick into Jason's mouth to something considerably not as perverted; his hair. Kyle's eyes travelled along the moonlight white forelock sitting on its silken ebony counterparts. That was there after the ring healed Jason, a permanent mark the light branded him with.

Kyle had never brought someone back from the brink of death with his powers, he wasn't sure if hair changing colour was a normal side effect. Not even Deadman, his fellow founder, was sure. The White Lantern Corps were the youngest breed of Lanterns, much to do with them was unknown.

In a way, Kyle supposed you could say he gave part of his lifeforce to Jason, as the ring fuelled itself by what was in his soul, his emotions. That might be why there was this metaphorical line attaching him to Jason. A _draw_. It was dragline silk, near invisible but stronger than steel.

The lovely ex-Robin told him it was bullshit the one time he asked if he felt it too.

"Jay," Kyle was surprised to come out his thoughts without much of a cause and Jason's name was the first thing on his mind.

"Hmm?" Popping the lolly out, Jason stopped what he was doing and pushed the welding mask from over his face, at the same time turning down the particularly fucked up song raping Kyle's ears; Insane, Eminem. A child-friendly classic.  The more upset and angry Jay was, the viler his musical taste became. A phenomenon,  really.

"I'm gonna go get some takeout, I'm starvin'. You want something?"

"I'm good."

"You sure?" Kyle frowned, a bit worried since other than that lolly teasing his lips, he hadn't seen Jay eat today. Or yesterday.

"Yeah. I'm not hungry."

"You're... You're getting pretty thin." Kyle had pretended not to notice but especially now when Jaybird was naked from the waist up, it was obvious.

"That's _none_ of your fucking business." Jason defensively bit but was no harsher than Kyle expected. He anticipated a response like this.

"Just an observation." Kyle quietly replied, sliding off the crate he was perched on. He really was hungry and he really was bringing Jason something back with him. He needed to eat, whether he wanted to or not.

Without a further word, Kyle went out and as he didn't feel like walking, he called his Lantern suit and powers from his ring and left the ground behind.

He hoped Jason would be okay while he was gone and while he doubted anything at all would happen, he still wanted to be fast. Leaving him alone wasn't something he liked.

Kyle was soaring high above Gotham, asking himself if he was in the mood for Chinese or Pizza, when on the edge of a Wayne Tower, he spotted a familiar man perched. Midnight black and royal blue, the calling card colours of Bludhaven's protector, Nightwing himself.

Kyle frowned behind his mask. That was odd. Why was he out after dawn, sitting alone there?

Intrigued, the Lantern turned his flight path. He was close in seconds, Dick's eyes tracked him as he neared but he didn't say anything, just held a lit cigarette between his lips, the glowing, smouldering end drawing closer to him with each breath in and out.

Kyle didn't take the reputably perfect and beautiful first ex-Robin for a smoker. And he didn't look that spry, his normally rich tan skin with that Romani glow was paler than what appeared healthy and although Kyle couldn't see his face fully, he bet Dick's eyes were circled with dark puffy bags. 

"This isn't your sector, Lantern, or your city." Dick pointed out as Kyle landed beside him, inwardly wincing at the flatness of his voice. There was no emotion and hardly any volume.

"Ain't your city either, 'Wing."

Dick shrugged and pulled more of the poisonous nicotine into his lungs, looking out towards Gotham.

"Just visiting."

"Jason mentioned you _just visited_ him yesterday."

"Oh did he?" Dick inquired apathetically, taking the cigarette from his mouth to blow out a thick vaporous plume of smoke. Kyle's hands landed on his hips, fingers loosely curling around them.

"Yeah. Did you hear that right after, a group of street thugs broke in and attacked him?"

Apparently, he hadn't, as Dick almost pulled the cigarette down his oesophagus with the surprised inhalation but then spat it forcefully out.  Bent over choking, he coughed out a near insensible,

"Wh - _what_?" Dick forced himself to push upright, coughing into the back of his hand. Kyle really wasn't surprised Bruce hadn't let him know of such an _irrelevant_ matter. It was pleasantly surprising that Dick had no idea, it meant he wasn't just ignoring it as his lovely father did.

"Is he okay?"

"Worse for wear. He's mostly just upset after talking with Bruce about it."

Dick grimaced. He must already know no good came of that.

"What did Bruce say?" That was nearly a growl, a protective growl rumbling from his throat as if a lioness was reincarnated in him. It was nice he cared about Jason now as that wasn't always the case.

"He called Jason useless, a whore, and tried to convince him I want to use him for sexual gain."

The mastication muscles in Dick's jaw pulled it tight, clenching until his teeth audibly ground. His eyes spat angry embers through the whites of his mask. And to think that wasn't even the meat of the story.

"Bruce also hired the thugs," Kyle went on, the impact of his words substantial enough to hit Dick in the face like a slap.

"And told them to scare Jason and break his equipment. To make him accept that he can't take care of himself, I think, and ultimately prove Bruce right." With every piece of this he explained, fury not White Lantern like stirred within him and he saw the same thing in Dick.

"Oh, and one of the goons forced himself onto Jason-"

Dick's eyes shot wide with horrification, mind immediately going to the worst places imaginable. Kyle was at least glad he could deny what Dick dreaded happened.

"He didn't get a chance to do anything. I got there in time and I don't wanna think about what he _would_ have done if I hadn't."

Lower lip stiff, Dick turned without another word and started for the edge of the building, one hand resting on the escrima stick at his hip.

"Where are you going?" Kyle called after, not making move to follow.

"To talk to Bruce." Was the reply. Right before Dick would have jumped off Wayne Tower and put his life in a grapple's hands, he rotated back around and looked Kyle in the eyes with a stern expression.

"I'm trusting you to protect my little brother. Keep him safe."

"Will do." Kyle nodded, crossing his arms over the White Lantern crest on his chest. He watched Dick leave without talking more, watched him leap sixty storeys without the fear of falling, and hoped he would be careful when it came to Bruce. He might just get himself where Jason was, the Bat's bad books.

* * *

 

When Kyle returned with his paper bag of Chinese takeout, he expected to walk in on Jason hard at work repairing the damage Bruce caused, not dozed off slumped on his table, folded arms pulled beneath his head to pillow it.

It was... Cute.

Placing the bag quietly on the table, Kyle leaned over Jay to check he didn't have that welder in his hand anymore, and he didn't, but he was still wearing the pushed-up mask, the straps of which were leaving red lines in his skin where he leaned on them.

 _Jason_.... Sighing, Kyle slid his arm beneath Jason's chest and pushed him upright against the chair, holding him there as he pulled the mask from over his head with his spare hand.

Jason made a sleepy snuffly noise, leaning into Kyle unconsciously as the Lantern carefully picked him up. He could have used a light construct to carry him, it may have been easier and less disruptive to Jason's catnap, but he'd take skin-on-skin contact whenever he could get it.

Resting Jason's head on his shoulder, Kyle noticed the soft white glow beneath the dark fabric of Jason's shirt, originating from the place the rebar went through him. The ring on Kyle's finger, it began to elicit a matching ethereal radiance that brightened the nearer they were.

Dropping a kiss into Jay's hair, Kyle didn't think much of the superlunary irradiance that would have disconcerted anyone else.

Occasionally, whenever they were close enough, this phenomena occurred. There was no immediate explanation but it was harmless. If anything, it was that line of silk showing itself in the physical. It proved he hadn't imagined it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Petition to make Jason be nicer to Kyle. Please sign your name.
> 
> Belfire.


	6. Hatchling

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Shoving the heavy double doors open and crashing into the walls, Dick swept into Bruce's board room like a raging storm. Consultants and partners stared with wide confused eyes at him while Bruce's expression was momentarily surprised, it was quickly overtaken by a dark scowl. His fingers curled into fists on the tabletop, jaw stiffening menacingly but he wasn't scaring Dick. He hadn't for a long while.

"Why do you think you can talk to my brother like that?" He marched to the very edge of the big oval table and his hands hit its surface with a loud thud filling every inch of the large room. Ignoring the men and women staring at them with so many questions, Dick and his lovely father locked irate eyes, a mental argument blazing before a verbal one began.

"Give us a moment." Bruce forced his voice to remain calm and professional as he addressed his board, they couldn't be more eager to obey. Papers shuffled and briefcases were hastily clicking shut, the men and women filtered out of the door like sand rushing through an hourglass. The suffocating tension was enough to scare anyone away, man or monster.

The moment they were completely alone, Bruce lifted himself out of his seat and started slowly around the table, running his hand along it. Dick's gaze tracked him without missing a beat, turning his head to never let Bruce into his blindside.

Wordless, Bruce's expression spoke volumes as he finally circled the table and came half a meter from Dick.  Bruce was a good foot taller, at least fifty pounds heavier, and he often used that and glares varying in intensity to intimidate, but he was just digging his wheels. As aforesaid, Dick wasn't afraid of him.

"What has Jason said _now_?" _Dad_ asked, his tone striking a nerve with its blatant implication that Jason did nothing but lie. Wouldn't he be surprised?

" _Kyle_ spoke to me." Dick matched his stern voice, taking a step back so he wouldn't have to tip his chin so far for visual contact. He wouldn't give Bruce the satisfaction.

"He said you hired someone to attack Jay and berated him to bits when he confronted you about it." Repeating it over, it only worsened how mad he was.

"You shouldn't trust Kyle Rayner, Dick." Was all Bruce had to say, no effort to address the accusation they both knew wasn't just an accusation.

" _Yeah_? And why not?" Dick was genuinely interested in why Bruce had always had a problem with Jason's Lantern.... Uh, friend, even before there was an explosion.

"You realise Rayner could have saved Jason, don't you?"

"He _did_. Jason isn't dead."

"He also isn't capable. Kyle could have prevented that."

"Would you overlook the paraplegia for one fucking second? Jay isn't _incapable_ , he's just not as capable as before because he was fucking _impaled_." Dick spat that right into his face, having come closer than he realise, since now there wasn't a foot between them. Unintimidatingly, Dick had to stand on his toes to look Bruce in the eye at this distance but his fearsome leer and fist ready to strike made up for it.

"You hired someone to attack Jason - just to prove a fucking _point_?! What if they ended up really hurting or _killing_ him? How would you have blamed that on Kyle, _huh_?"

Bruce took an irritated breath before he began as if it was too much to ask that he deal with this.

"Robin - former or not - should be able to get out if any predicament, any attacker or form of captivity. If Jason thinks he's so capable of defending himself that he doesn't need any of us, he should be able to prove it."

"You think so?" Dick raised a brow, outraged by this bull crap thought process.

"That why you let Joker beat the shit out of him instead of saving him?" And that wasn't even all. Dick remembered that Bruce sent Robin on a solo mission to Crime Alley with the simple instructions that he take down a ring of thieves operating in the area. Easy. Day one stuff. Except that wasn't what was at the assigned location. As it turned out, it was the site Joker's latest scheme was happening.

An unprepared Robin hatchling fell right into his lap.

Dick hated that sixty percent of him believed Bruce was aware Joker was there and it's all a sick fucking test.  The Bat held every Robin to the high standards of never having to resort to back up and if they did, then they didn't deserve the mantle.

And Bruce didn't even address that question shoved into his face. He blinked his blank dark eyes slowly.

"Maybe you should be taking your aggressions out on Mr Rayner. He crippled Jason, after all."

" _Why_ do you think that?"

"Because Jason is such a slut, he'll sleep with anything that can stomach him. Kyle Rayner knows that, he just wants to make Jason _his_ slut, which he did now that Jason can't run from him and is desperate with over half of his would-be appeal gone."

Dick could feel the sharp edges of his teeth filing down as his jaw worked in a circular grinding motion.

"You _better_ not have said that to Jay's face." He was going to skin Bruce if he did. Jason did _not_ need to hear that kind of comment again. Bruce had been calling him all sorts of sex-work related slurs since forever and Dick wished he cared enough to step in before.

He unwittingly thought back on how it began. When he was at the cave one evening, and Bruce sparred with an impossibly little twelve-year-old in a yellow cape and red tunic, he said something that made Dick's ears prick.

 _"You can't be at home in this position anymore, Robin."_ Bruce had knocked Jason onto his back, holding him on the ground with his heavy boot sitting on top of Jason's narrow chest.

Dick had wondered what Bruce meant by that but brushed it off and forgot it quickly thereafter.

It was only months later that his memory was rekindled again. Nightwing, Batman and Robin were working together to crack an underground sex trafficking ring when Bruce turned to Jason and he said,

" _You know a lot about whoring. You're a slut yourself. What insight do you have to offer?"_

A bright red blush spread through Jason's face,  shocked Bruce would even say that, his lips parted in a wordless gape. Then his gaze quickly darted to closely examine his boots, mumbling a tiny quiet,

_"I - I don't have any."_

Bruce clicked his tongue and huffed in annoyance.

_"Of course not."_

Little Jay was clearly uncomfortable, bad memories swirling around in his head that he would enjoy forgetting.

Dick hadn't known what Bruce was talking about then. Against his wishes, he did now.

Bruce was making jabs and remarks like that to Jason because the kid used to be the plaything of a young man in the Red Hood gang, currently spending his time behind bars, serving life at the ripe age of twenty-three. His name was Corduroy Mendoza (odd first name, admittedly), arrested for a quadrupole homicide after evidence was anonymously submitted to the police station.

Jay was eleven or twelve when he met Corduroy, who was eighteen at the time. _Kyle_ was eighteen now and had the same ethnicity as the gangbanger. Dick sometimes wondered if that had anything to do with the dysfunctional relationship between ex-Robin and Lantern.

"Zoning out on me, son?" Bruce snapped his fingers in Dick's face, the twin bursts of piercing sound snapping him out of his reminisces.

Dick's features screwed back into a scowl and no longer able to waste his breath on deaf ears, he lashed out and struck Bruce in the face. His knuckles whipped across the bigger man's jaw, a sloppy shot but the whack and sharp gasp were satisfactory.

Bruce stumbled but only slightly, his squared powerful posture could hardly be swayed by Dick's lesser strength. He was Batman, he could take a punch and not fall over himself.

It looked like Bruce wanted to hit Dick back but he held his shaking fist at his side as he straightened, rubbing the mark on his jawbone. He knew if he started a fight here, someone outside the room would hear and it wouldn't make him look good, to be seen beating up his ward.  Dick was counting on that, of course, seeing as how his would-be father could annihilate him.

"If Nightwing _happens_ to run into Batman on patrol, I won't stop at one hit." Muttering, Dick worked his hand around his aching knuckles as he gave the warning. Adjusting the wrinkles in his suit, Bruce's eyes spat anger at him when they met him. It was a foreboding look, like the one he wore before he did something bad.

"Then you better avoid Gotham..." He growled.

"Because _I_ won't stop at blood."

Dick's crystalline eyes narrowed on him, he approached, squared up to him just so he knew he wasn't scaring anyone.

"I'm _not_ afraid of you anymore, Bruce." He promised even as Bruce was within range to severely harm him.

"And I'm not a defenceless kid anymore, unlike Jason and _Tim_." Dick couldn't even begin to grasp how Bruce treated his own sons like this. He could _never_ talk or treat his daughter the way Bruce made a habit of.

"I think Jason's obsessive argument about _not_ being a defenceless child is the one thing that gives him reason to live."

It wasn't a good idea with the thin walls, but Dick couldn't hold himself back from hitting Bruce a second time. It was far harder, hard enough to throw Bruce back into that large conference table of his. The chairs clattered noisily together and it was sheer luck that the table top didn't split when his considerable weight fell against it.

Dick might try to kill him if he hung around much longer but he might well end up being offed instead. Bruce was better, admittedly.  He would win.

Dick had Mar'i and his little brothers to think about here, he dragged himself out of the office before Bruce got tired of rolling with the punches.

They would run into one another on patrol and it would be inevitable, Dick knew he would face the repercussions then.

"Stay the fuck away from Jason. Leave him alone. I won't say this again." With the growl of a parting sentence, he stepped out into the hallway. No one was really there. No one had heard the confrontation and better that way.

But he was surprised to spot Tim lingering in the waiting area, nestled in a large leather chair, idly kicking his legs as he held a physics book by the covers.

Wiping the blood from his knuckles on his jeans, Dick hurried over to the twelve-year-old who looked up rapidly, surprised but not unpleasantly so.

"Dick, what are you doing here?" He asked, sitting up with his book closing.

"I was just here to talk with B. What about you?" Dick made his voice sound chatty as always and it didn't match the fast-paced way he shoved Tim's book into the backpack on the neighbouring chair and shouldered the bag.

"I... I was just waiting for Bruce to be done with his meeting. I have an assignment I need his help with." Frowning in confusion, Tim watched Dick take his book with his brows knitted.

"I'll help you with it. C'mon." He took Tim around his slender wrist and pulled him out of the chair, starting down the hallway. Tim stumbled to keep up, tripping one or two steps until he adjusted his pace.

"Wh - where are we going?"

"To visit your cousin Mar'i."

* * *

 

Kyle was so stupid, honestly. And annoying. But stupid was the bigger toll. Jason left his energy drink can open and on the table at a generously trusting distance from his reach and Kyle _didn't_ find it suspicious? 

Out of the corner of his eye, Jason watched the lobotomised Lantern snatch his drink and take a fearless gulp of it. Idiot. Took the bait like a brainless fish.

The drug Jason laced the rim of the can with soon had Kyle swaying and struggling to keep his balance.

 _Thunk_. Jason didn't react when Kyle's unconscious body hit the floor somewhere behind him, fallen can spilling its contents all over the floor. Kyle was _so_ cleaning that fucking mess up as soon as he woke up, there was no question about it.

Jason drifted past the Lantern's immobile body sprawled out and made his way to the door, a wreck after Darren and his buddies caved it in. He pulled the bolts that were still intact and unlocked the door, pulling it open to a flush of cold sunlight and an empty parking lot. Or mostly empty, a lone car sat at the end of it, black tinted windows hiding the driver.

At his hand sign, the engine started and the vehicle rolled the distance to him, gravel crunching beneath its snowflake rimmed tyres.

Jason wasn't worried when a large Hispanic man covered in gang tattoos and aged scars stepped out. He also didn't express concern as the man came to loom above him, doing so non-threateningly, his dark eyes quickly scanning Jason's lethargic state and the wheelchair with a flicker of alarm.

" _What_ happened?" He demanded, voice already aggressive in the instant and silent promise to get back at the bastard responsible for this. Bless, he was so protective.

"It's nothing, Corduroy. I broke my leg and now I'm stuck in this thing for a couple of months. It was just a dumb accident, no one to beat up." Jason lied so easily through his teeth, in such a natural way that Corduroy didn't have a waver of doubt. He never thought Jason might lie about anything. He often used that to his advantage.

"Hmm. If you say so." Corduroy ran his big hand through Jason's hair, his affection not missed but completely ignored. He didn't even ask why Jason didn't have a cast for his _broken_ leg.

"It's good to see you again, little bird."

"Yep - you get my stuff?" Jason wasn't one for pleasantries. Corduroy was here for one reason and it wasn't because there was any love lost between them.

Corduroy didn't raise a brow at Jason's to-the-point nature, he was used to it and shouldn't expect more.

"Uh-huh. In the car. I'll bring them in."

"Great. Thanks." Jason really didn't mean the thanks part. It was just one end of a favour that he was owed. Government files would say Corduroy was behind bars but obviously, that wasn't correct. He was in hot water with officials, Jason was made aware and he falsified information to keep him safe. No one was looking for Cory now. No one knew he was free.

At the time, Jason did it for free, before he realised he could benefit from it. He did it free since... Well...

During the winter of his eleventh year alive, when Gotham was struck with a snowstorm that made your breath freeze and pelted the streets with four feet of snow, Jason remembered stumbling through the blizzard, frozen to the bone, about to pass out and fully knowing he wouldn't wake up. Then almost by magic, Corduroy came across him while running an errand for the Hoods.

For a reason Jason still didn't understand, the man didn't think twice before scooping him up and carrying him somewhere warm. He didn't say why even when Jason asked repeatedly. Maybe it was sheer pity.

After that, Corduroy always kept him safe and fed, took care of him and didn't let him anywhere near his... Erm, _customers_ , who would just hurt him. It wasn't perfect but it was a considerable improvement, even if he was still surrounded by violence and sex and drugs.

Oddly, Corduroy never asked for anything in return, even when Jason _offered_ , which is what sparked the rumours about the Red Hoods allowing paedophiles into their ranks. To this day, those rumours lived on.

It was only when Jason met Batman that his life spiralled. If Corduroy knew what that rich bastard had done to him, he would kill him. Jason didn't want him to for two reasons. A, no one fought his battles for him and B, he didn't want his old friend to be harmed in the attempt. Bruce could kill him, easily.

Jason hadn't seen Cory in over a year, he didn't know this wheelchair thing was permanent so thus far, he didn't have a reason to go after Gotham's most powerful man, both at night and in the day. Better to keep it that way.

"Don't step on Kyle. He's... Somewhere over there." Jason waved haphazardly past his shoulder to where he assumed he left the Lantern's sorry ass. He wheeled himself out of the way to allow Corduroy easy access through the door with his armload of computer equipment that would replace what Bruce destroyed.

"Who's Kyle?" Corduroy raised an eyebrow, already silently disapproving the way any caring mother or sibling might. But then Jason didn't have much experience in those departments, that might be an unfair comparison.

"He's just a pity case homeless guy I let sleep on my floor sometimes. He's harmless."  It was simpler to lie than to reveal he couldn't get rid of fucking _Kyle_. Jason still didn't understand what he was hanging around for since he claimed it wasn't for any carnal reason.

The former Robin was _fairly_ cruel to the Lantern, it's not like he was getting treatment worth staying for.

"Don't let hobos into your home, little bird." Corduroy scolded him as he set the computer down on the cleared space of the table. The box of wires and tech looked small in his muscular arms. He had to step over Kyle as he headed back outside with the passing comment,

"You know how dangerous people  can be." He did indeed but Jason shrugged nonchalantly.

"Eh. I'll just shoot the fucker if he ever tries anything." That wasn't a lie. Kyle was one dead son-of-a-bitch if he ever turned into a backstabber. Jason had to have walls up as well as canons ready to fire. He wasn't taking the same risk he did with Bruce ever again. Not even if he trusted Kyle. Not even if he... Didn't _hate_ him.

There was once a time he could have said the same things about Bruce.

"Hmm. Good. You need to keep yourself safe and remember, nothing is free." Like Kyle hanging around, yeah, Jason was aware of that. He just hadn't figured the dumb idiot out yet.

Jason watched Corduroy go back and forth with computers and monitors and keyboards until everything was there, ready to be connected and breathed life into. Good. Jason had some serious plans for them. And Bruce.... The bastard wasn't talking to him like that and getting away with it.

With all of it in place, Jason waited for Corduroy to leave right away but he gave a small sigh with his back to Jason, acting as if there was a terrible truth coming that he would rather not say.

"... I have to leave Gotham for a while." He finally said with a notable air of unhappiness concerning the reality.

But the news didn't effect Jason all that much... Maybe because he didn't really form attachments. He blinked slowly at the information presented, wondering if it should it affect him? Jason hadn't seen Cory in over a year anyway, they weren't close...

"Okay..."

Corduroy wasn't expecting Jason's neutrality to this matter, it showed on his features as he rotated on his heel, but again, he didn't comment. He was used to Jason's detachment from caring about people openly.

"And I probably won't see you again for a bit."

A second time, Jason shrugged.

"I'll be fine." He didn't ask to know where Corduroy was going, not because he truly didn't care but he bet the man wasn't certain. He just had to skip town and for a gangster recently in trouble with the law, that was understandable.

"You're sure?"

"Sure." He really wasn't but he didn't care. Not if someone killed him or even if Bruce did it himself. Jason just couldn't bring himself to care.

"Hmm. Well, call me if you get into trouble." He said as he ran his fingers through Jason's hair. They both knew there would be no number he could be reached by.

"Yeah. I will." Lies. All lies. Jason wouldn't call even if he could. He may need this damn wheelchair but he didn't need a crutch.

"See you, little bird." Corduroy said and Jason watched him go without saying anything in the form of goodbye. He did wonder if that was the last time they saw each other. It was an underlying thought for both of them since there was always that chance one of them might die. Especially if Jason went through with what was in his head.

He knew he was going to.

He had a gun, he had cartridges but the bullets were going to be for someone else.

Turning the wheels of the chair, Jason maneuvred himself back towards the computers with the intention of setting it all up. As he moved past Kyle's yet senseless body, he felt that snapped thing  in him rattling. Before his chat with Bruce, that thing was still intact.

It wasn't enough for the old man to do his all to take Jason's life and then take away his legs, but he had to squeeze out every last drop of sanity too. Restraint went with it too. Whoosh. All out the window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Corduroy is and should be a name and I will fight for my beliefs.
> 
> I know Dick's confrontation with Bruce is disappointing but fear not...


	7. Two For The Show

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo boy, I used so many big words I feel like an adult! 
> 
> (Andthisfirstpartisaflashbackscene)

 

Thud. Thud. Thud. 

Growling beneath his breath, Bruce's gaze flickered to the young Robin beside him, kicking the dashboard out of boredom. Jason's seat was rolled back as far as the track would allow, almost into a total recline, and he was more involved in mildly entertaining himself than focusing on why the Batmobile was waiting in the black enveloping the docks.

Recon. Basic reconnaissance and Jason couldn't sit still for an hour. Children were impatient, the Bat knew that, just...

Thud. Thud. The sound was getting harder to block out of his field of focus, the eternal migraine raging like a thunderstorm in Bruce's skull. The boy's noise making was worsening it.

Thud. Thud. Thud-

Breaking his stone stiff posture, Bruce's hand lurched out and locked around Jason's ankle. The leather shaft of his boot laced tightly to the halfway point of his calf, it protected Jason from any bruising that the squeeze of Bruce's fingers could have caused.

"What the hell, man?" Straightening, Jason scowled at him as if the action was out of nowhere, and he yanked his leg free in one try. If Bruce had wanted to hold onto him, Jason would be powerless to resist.

" _Sit_ still." Bruce snapped and was treated to a bratty eye-roll and a huff that was something Dick would _never_ do. Would think Jason realised how lucky he was to be given the Robin cape when there were so many genuinely skilled and obedient children who could replace him with ease.

Would think Jason put his all into behaving _not_ like a spoilt teenager but rather a unit above capable of performing the tasks given. 

But no. Jason couldn't be less grateful he didn't have to whore himself out to the Hoods anymore. What else would anyone want him for, if not as Robin? 

The whoring thing, Jason denied it all but it was a natural coping mechanism. Denial. He was stunted by his fretful flighty temperament, so much so that he thought he could pick and choose what parts of him were real.

And now he was sulking like the brat no one raised him to be. A lesser man would smack him in the mouth for it.

"Can't we just go bust those guys already?" Jason gestured through the windshield at the ghostly ship floating on the waters by the pier in the distance. Penguin's men were on there, loading cargo. 

Bruce ignored his question completely and then his existence beside him. He watched Penguin's henchmen coming and going with armfuls of boxes. They contained weapons, he would assume. 

Leaning heavily into the seat, Jason watched them too, lacklustre eyes tracing the men and their movements. Idly, he blew a lock of black hair from over his brow. 

But then his interests rose as a couple of hired muscle appeared from the shadows, walking a smaller figure, hunched over and shivering.

Jason uncrossed his ankles and removed his feet off the dash, sitting up straight to lean in closer to what he was seeing. 

"B... They've got a kid." He turned his head to Bruce, a clear distinction of alarm on his features. Could he _finally_ be taking this seriously?

"A little girl."

Bruce nodded. He was watching the same thing Jason was. He could tell what was happening. 

"We have to go save her."  Jason's hand was already going for the door handle to dart out but Bruce caught his wrist, fingers big enough to wrap it twice.

"We have to play this with a full deck, Robin; don't. Be. Stupid."

Jason threw a rapid glance back to the girl, anxiously swiping his tongue over his bottom lip.   

"But-"

" _Robin_."  

The girl tripped over something on the ground and fell heavily beside it. The man on the left kicked her, ordering a snappy, 

"Get up!"

And at that point, there was nothing Bruce could have done fast enough to catch Jason when he yanked his limb free and bolted from the car.  Bruce nearly had the hem of his yellow-black cape to drag him back by but the boy was greased lightning when it suited him.

Robin pounced onto the men before Bruce was two steps into pursuit and beating them bloody by the time he was within reach to stop him. One man a pulp on the asphalt while the other's jacket was wrapped around Jason's fist; he was pounding his knuckles into his face again and again. Blood streaked up Jason's arm and speckles of it on his cheek and domino mask.

" _Robin_!" Roughly, Bruce grabbed Jason's cape and dragged him off his victim with a sharp jerk, throwing him aside in favour of countering the thug that rushed him.  

The fight happened fast, a routine takedown that didn't take three minutes of hit, kick, dodge, repeat. The threat was neutralised, the police arrived and the girl was handed off to them along with the captured henchmen. Routine... Mostly routine. Jason almost ruined the mission completely with his disobedience. 

While the patrol cars pulled away, Bruce marched down the stone steps leading to the mooring dock built alongside the concrete breakwater. It was hidden from direct view, the oily black waters lapping at it. Thousands of golden Gotham lights shone across the bay, twinkling like little stars. 

The serenity of the image went against the angry storm of thoughts in Bruce's cowled head. His bad mood wasn't helped by the tap-tap-tap of Jason's pursuit of him, descending the staircase. 

"Where are you going?" Jason's tone was confused but on his guard like it always was when he knew he did something wrong. He disobeyed and could have cost them the objective.

Ignoring his protege, Bruce kneeled down by the water's edge and stared into the lightless depths.

"... _B_?" Jason was standing behind him, a safe meter of distance, until he tentatively neared, lowering himself into a crouch.

"Look," Jason sighed, sounding genuinely remorseful in some sense but it was clear he didn't regret it fully. 

"I'm sorry I didn't listen, okay? I just couldn't let them hurt that kid-"

Before he could get that excuse out his whorish mouth, Bruce had him around his neck, wrenched him off his balance and shoved him beneath the waves with a surprised gasp and high splash. Immediately when he couldn't breathe and water rushed down his throat,  Jason started thrashing and struggling but he was pathetically weak. 

To hell with how remorseful he was.

The Bat forced Jason's head underneath the surface with a gritted jaw, arm thrust up to the elbow as he watched the kid tossing wildly. His panic was real, enough so to pull a bird-a-rang and make a fair attempt to bury it in his captor's arm. The blade bounced off the metal gauntlet and he dropped the weapon, its iron catching a glint of moonlight as it quickly sunk.

Bruce let the spluttering boy up just to gasp in a few sharp desperate breaths before pushing him back under. He kept Jason there for almost a minute that time, heated beyond reason with this boy's damned misbehaviour. Dick never needed to be disciplined like this, the occasional backhand knocked him right back into his place. But Jason just _craved_ a sterner approach. 

When Jason's struggles began to ebb out to only a few weak strikes,  Bruce drew him out of the water a final time, fingers locked around the back of his head, his drenched hair easier to hold onto than when it was dry. It wasn't quite as sleek. 

Jason coughed weakly, streams of water bubbling through his parted bluing lips. His skin was white as snow with broken veins rising from beneath it. 

Without sparing him a caring glance, Bruce tossed his drenched body onto the dock. There was a wet smack and frail groan that he didn't turn to meet.

Spluttering, Jason dragged his violently shaking arms beneath himself, raggedly coughing, throwing up half of the ocean from his lungs and stomach. His spine arched with the force of his retching, hacking up everything until speckles of blood landed on the wet ground his palms were flat against.

The sea weakened the integrity of the spirit gum,  Jason's domino mask was hanging on barely by the edges for a few moments until it slipped entirely off. Bruce saw the true blue of his eyes as he was shot a sideways leer, filled with anger and the smoulder of a fight. Bruce wondered if that fight could ever truly be quenched.

Jason's cape was heavy when wet, he tore it off as he stumbled to his feet and hurled the dripping piece of attire at Bruce. It missed and hit the ground beside his feet with a soggy thwap.

"The fuck's wrong with you?!" He screamed, voice raw from coughing. His arms were thrown off to the sides, his small body shivering with all manner of one-to-one-thousand emotions. Well, he was small by Bruce's standards, his head only reaching his shoulder by the strands of his hair. A fact yet again proven as Bruce approached with an air of menace and a threatening posture.

"Disobey me again, you _whore_ , and I'll keep you under until the damn pressure makes your eyes pop out." He really meant that, Jason believed it when he stepped back as Bruce was close enough to reach him. He stepped a good distance back and his fists closed as tight as the clench of his teeth.

" _Don't_ call me _that_." Jason bit, his wet bangs a visor that obscured his vision but his indignant, defensive anger was clear to see. Was the insult really his biggest obstacle here? 

"What? A _whore_? Would you prefer _slut_?" 

"I'm not a fucking _whore_!" Jason exclaimed as if he had any point to go by. He was honestly laughable with his cute little fit. 

"I've told you a thousand times that I never traded _anything_ for the Red Hoods to shelter me but you won't fucking believe me! It - it's like you _want_ that to not be true!"

"Don't be retarded. I don't _want_ that to be true."  That was ridiculous. Bruce's hands closed firmly around Jason's upper arms and locked there as he walked the boy forcefully back against the wall of the breakwater looming above them. A flicker of alarm darted over Jason's features when he realised he was cornered. Ah, so he was respectfully afraid despite what he may say.

"But it makes no sense that a gang would protect you for free. You're _lying_ to feel less like a used up slut."  

The force of that truth bomb clearly hit a tender spot; Jason's eyes enlarged a fraction before narrowing to a fearsome display of hurt rage, all walls bricked high until they threatened to topple.  

Vicious as a brawling ferret kit, Jason grabbed Bruce's wrists and pushed to free himself and when that inevitably got him nowhere, he kicked out, boot bouncing uselessly off the armour.

"Let go-!"

Bruce slapped him. Not as hard as he deserved, just once across the cheek with the back of his hand, but it snapped Jason's head to the side with a harsh crack and pained noise.

He wanted to fight so bad, he'd get a fight. 

Bruce drew the boy back only to crash him into the wall at full force. A sharp gasp followed the solid smack, he felt the jolt of impact as it reverberated through Jason's far smaller body. He was shaking, big blue eyes wide as they locked on him.

"You _don't_ talk back to me." Bruce grit, gripping Jason between his trembling hands with contusing exertion. He could crush the boy with such ease, a thought that went through his head unbidden. 

"And disobey me again, you'll find yourself thrown back onto those damn streets where you won't survive a day without stripping." Bruce shoved Jason's light frame off to the side stumbling, where he barely caught himself. 

Bruce approached him again and Jason was smarter this time; he took off like an arrow from a bow. His strident footsteps drubbed up the stone staircase onto the breakwater and while Bruce could have caught him and furthered the lesson, he let the brat go lick his wounds.

He listened to Jason run from him without any penitence for making him feel the need to do so. Running was something he liked to do, wasn't it? Flight kicked in after fight.

Absently, Bruce wondered if Jason was going to fuck around with that halfwit Lantern who could somehow stand him. It was always the first place he darted to whenever scared. Cute but pathetic.

Hmm... Maybe it would help Jason to tough up a bit if he was tossed in the ring with a _true_ villain. He may realise who his enemies really were and stop being so damn rebellious.

Bruce started remembering where the Joker's last reported activity took place.

* * *

 

Consciousness a fleeting notion, Jason blurrily thought back on that incident that should have screamed at him to _run_. Unwitting tears streamed down his cheeks from the breaks in his mask and his wrists ran red after too many tries to break the cuffs. 

The memories of the fight refused to remove themselves from his quickly fading mind, even as the laughing clown pressed the cold point of an iron rod over his abdomen. It was blunt, dull, no cutting edge, there was no way...

Jason screamed bloodily, his broken body jerking violently to match the movement of Joker raising the crowbar and bringing it down like a hammer on the other end of the rod. The rounded obtuse point that was afore-described sunk inches into Jason's abdominal cavity. The pain was absolutely _indescribable_. Fire, ice, lightning, chunks of glass, all of it in him at once, ripping him apart.

He thrashed, flexing every muscle he had to pull in on himself and drag away, binds making escape impossible. Even if he could have, the dizziness would make him fall before the first step.

Desperately, he attempted to reason this unbearable burning but none came. Everything was so confused, like a muddled up puzzle with half the pieces lost. 

Clang! Another strike of the crowbar that forced the bar deeper through him.

He couldn't breathe, his sight clouding over with thick black fog but alongside it, colourful shapes danced gleefully, turning the spinning warehouse into a chromatic aberration. The wavelengths of light were all twisted, making it impossible to focus on anything but the excruciating pain.

Clang! Laughter. So much laughter. Mad shrieking cackles that bounced off the four lonely grey walls of stone and the aching lining of his skull. 

Jason forgot how many pounds of the makeshift hammer there were, just as he didn't remember if he lost the strength to scream or just became deaf to it. His throat was raw. He tasted nothing but blood.

That argument with Bruce, that was yesterday. What little fragment of Jason that was still able to think was pleading with the image of the man in his head not to be so bitter that he would ignore his Robin needed saving. He wouldn't... No matter how angry he was, Bruce wouldn't leave him here... Would he?

_Please... Please... Don't..._

And _boom_. Nothing but the suffocationg  rush of fire burning him to the charred marrow of his bone... so hot it had to be the gates of hell thrown open in his face. 

Then nothing. A blissful moment of silent oblivion his shattered body begged would be eternal on his ragged wet breaths.

That's it. He lived, he tried, he failed, he went away.

It should have ended there.  Why didn't it end there? Why did Jason blink back the deep blurring glow of the fire? He couldn't feel its ravenous heat. He was cold. So, so cold...

Laboriously, he cracked his eyes open a millimetre and he saw how the orange and yellow tongues of flames flickered, rising out of the blackened, melting parts of his ruined uniform, fusing it to his skin. He was only half aware of the concrete pinning him and the iron bar protruding from his midriff, rising toward the burning sky.

His breathing was shallow uneven panting and heavy wounded whimpers and swallows of blood.

The fire was the only colour, everything else around him was a charred, cold world where ash and cinders fell like rain.

He supposed he was dying then. Or dead.

Made sense that he heard the echo of his name and a flood of white light ate up the burnt air around him, but not the sort of light that invited him into the sweet embrace of death...

It was dragging him away from a cavernous void calling out in enchanting whispers and he tried to fight whatever it was that wanted him to stay.

It was demanding... Too demanding... To not just fucking give up when it was the only thing that bore an ounce of sagacity.

Jason was the rope in a game of tug-of-war and whichever force could pull harder could keep him but he was too tired to watch it play out.

"C'mon, Jaybird, stay with me _please_..."

* * *

 

The ex-Robin felt good about rolling the bullets one by one into the barrel of his gun. The memories of those two happenings made him feel good about what he was doing. There was no emotional hurdle to get over, Bruce earned this with every comment and raised fist.

It was a matter of time really. One for the money, two for the show, someone has to do it.

Jason was going to go up to wherever Bruce was, work, cave, home or a fucking press interview, and shoot him in his fucking face. He'd take the repercussions later. What did it matter if he was arrested, so long as Bruce was dead and gone? No price exceeded what he was willing to cough up and cover.

And then _this_... This _person,_

"Jaybird, what are you doing?"

Stepped into his peripheral. Kyle. Fucking _Kyle_. His dark eyes were concerned as they went over the weapon in Jason's grasp and the murderous determination that made its distinction on his face.

"It doesn't matter to you, Rayner. Just fuck off." He attempted to manoeuvre himself by but Kyle caught the back of his chair to hold him in place. He sensed that something bad was going through Jason's head, or... A Lantern of Life would perceive it as bad but it was plainly karma.

Kyle was stupid if he didn't get that.

" _What_ are you doing?" Ky pressed a little harder but all Jason could make out was how hard he was grinding his molars together.

 _No... Don't do this now, Kyle_...

Finally, Jason looked away from the ground his angry eyes were burning a searing hole into to stare up at the Lantern. He tipped his chin a half inch and without hesitancy proclaimed,

"I'm going to kill him."

"Kill who?" Kyle arched his brows like it wasn't clear who had this coming.

" _Bruce_." The name was a blanket statement, no need for an explanation, it was enough on its own. Bruce was bad enough to bring it on himself.

"... Jay, I can't let you do that." Kyle was almost remorseful, Jason caught his clearcut reluctance to say that but it didn't ice the fire.

Violent as it was abrupt, Jason slapped his hands away, far away, made Kyle's wrist snap back from the impact. He just _severely_ tripped a switch.

" _How_ can you say that?! _He_ tried to kill me!" Jason screamed at him. The Lantern was taken aback by the rage of his outburst and admittedly, Jason was too, but he couldn't contain it. It was more than he could just absorb this time.

"And - and _look_ at what he did to me!" Wildly, he gestured to himself or the chair he was chained to, maybe he indicated to this whole fucked up situation, but whatever it was, he wanted Kyle to take it for how it was. His goody-two-shoes approach to everything had to go before this fucked up _involvement_ of theirs did.

"After _everything_ he's done to me, I can't believe you want to protect that - that fucking _monster_!" Jason didn't remember hearing his voice become so loud it hurt his ears. He didn't remember Kyle stepping back and he didn't know why the Lantern wasn't looking him in the eyes, but staring somewhere other than that.

Automatically, Jason's gaze rapidly tracked where his was riveted and found the light he hadn't noticed started to irradiate from beneath his clothes, his shirt, the light that lived under his scars.

Kyle's ring was glowing like that too and it was fucking _annoying_. It distracted from the conversation (screaming fit) that he was trying to have.

Hastily with his hands, Jason sought to cover the glow up, his lip drawn back into an aggressive snarl. He hated this thing, whatever it was or fucking did.

From the depth of his lungs, Kyle sighed. His fingers carded back through his hair. He left that place he'd been rooted to and knelt by Jason, where he was failing to keep the light from beaming through his hands. Glancing up when Kyle was there, Jason scowled at him. Fucking idiot. That absolute fucking idiot! Why would he want to protect Bruce after the man maimed him?

"Jason, I think I need to explain something to you." Kyle began, the calmness he exuded sizzling like water almost audibly as it hit the wall of fire around Jason and turned to vapour.

"I don't want to hear why you think I should _forgive_ Bruce and just get over everything he did to me. He deserves to fucking die and-"

"Yes," Kyle said as if he was stating a fact from his own book.

"Yes, he absolutely does. I'd love to kill him for you, babe, I really would. Don't think I don't consider it every day, think about how good it would feel... I've wanted to fly him up to space and just leave him there ever since you got hurt. Not a fucking day has passed without me wanting to do it. _But_..." He trailed off in his search for good wording and Jason realised he was staring at the Lantern because of his confession. He never... never knew Kyle felt that way. Or cared enough to feel it.

"... _But_ , if I do that and go through with killing Bruce, I'll lose my ring for committing the White Lantern taboo. We represent life, we can't bring death. And it's not that the fucking ring matters more to me than you, I just won't take the risk of me losing my powers somehow affecting you detrimentally."

His rage simmering down, Jason blinked slowly, a bit unsure.

"Why... Why would it?"

"Look," Kyle gestured from the ring on his finger to the unnatural irradiance shining out of Jason like it fucking belonged there.

"Like it or not, my power is still in you and if I suddenly don't have it, you don't either, and we don't know the repercussions. It's still in you for a reason, if it isn't, god knows what that could entail. It might _kill_ you to not have it when it's the only reason you're not dead."

Jason watched the light from the scar dimming and considered what was said. He hadn't before. Could that be true? Sure it made sense at arm's length, Kyle was the type of person to think about something like that. It was sweet he was worried but just because _he_ hit a wall here...

Jason looked back to the Lantern.

"I don't have your moral qualms, I can kill him. You don't have to."

"You're not even going to try for the same reason I just mentioned. The power is in you, wouldn't be there if it didn't have to, I don't know if it can stay if you break the one rule you're not supposed to." He was so stern, as if 'no' had ever stopped Jason. Had he already forgotten?

"I murdered that fucking Darren and look," Jason indicated around with both hands.

"I'm not dead."

" _Self-defence_. It's allowed and it's different to acting out of malicious intent."

"Fuck's sake, Kyle." The has-been Robin pinched the bridge of his nose. _God_ , Ky was making this difficult.

"You're just making up a whole new set of rules and even if you're not, I don't _care_. I want him dead _more_ than I fucking want to be alive."

Maybe that was too honest, it certainly appeared to have an impact on Kyle and it was understandable, it was quite a statement but he didn't get it. He didn't get that Bruce killed the only version of Jason that he'd ever liked, Robin, and he did so much shit after that. Putting a bullet in him was worth the repercussions.

Even if it meant death for both of them.

"I'm sorry, Jay." Kyle said when he got over himself.

"I can't let you."

Jason was going to hit Kyle if he tried to stop him, he was really going to fucking bitch slap the shit out of him, but he seldom remembered Kyle didn't have to touch him, to touch him. 

White energy constructs attacked him in the gentlest way possible, translucent manacles clamping around Jason's arms and curling around his chest. It fastened him to the wheelchair, tightened like the worst confinement he'd ever been in. It squeezed around his wrists until it forced his fingers to uncurl around the gun and drop it. Metal clattered on the concrete.

Snarling, Jason wrenched at his limbs and when he couldn't pull them free, he shot Kyle an aggressive hate-filled leer.

"Let me go or I'll fucking-"

"Whatever you're going to say, don't bother. I'm not letting you kill him because it could kill you." Kyle had a solemn expression, unenthusiastic about this but he clearly believed it was necessary.

"Then how about I kill _you_ instead?" He snapped while he squirmed like an eel on land. Maybe he meant that. Maybe he didn't. Kyle didn't seem to care either way, he just looked wary.

" _Stop_ , Jason. Just stop."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, I'm sorry, did you think the rebar went through Jason because of the explosion? No, boo-boo, no...


	8. Unsafe

It was habit by now to always make sure the windows were shut and locked. It was a problem that it was somehow overlooked this time. Not against intruders or possible supervillains following him home, but... See...

A little comet wooshed overhead and Dick ignored everything Alfred ever told him about running in the house. The hallway flooded with the thunder of footsteps, Dick leapt and tried to grab the tail end of the amethyst comet but it slipped through his fingers and he thudded heavily onto his feet.

Oh no, no, no! She was headed right for the open window at the end of the hall, it would grant her access to the unlimited space of the skies above Bludhaven. Judging by the excited boost in speed and vigour, Mar'i well knew that.

With Kori off-world on a mission, Dick would  _never_  catch their daughter if she got out. A superpowered half-Tamaranean four-year-old with enhanced strength, starbolts and flight going for her was a bit much for this acrobat in certain regions.

She was almost out and home free when Dick made one final attempt to seize her. He took a running jump but knew he wouldn't catch Mar'i in time, already panicking over it when a blur of Robin came from nowhere to tackle her. He caught Mar'i in both arms, rolled onto his shoulder then back to his feet, holding handfuls of squirming little girl.

Across the floor, Dick fell flat on his belly with a thunk he'd be feeling for a while to come. He hoped he didn't break his phone when he landed on it. He thought about that hotdog down a hallway vine. He felt like a hotdog down a hallway, sprawled out this way.

"You okay?" Tim asked with a raised brow, tightening his hold around Mar'i. She was kicking and fussing to be released, wriggling like a barrel of slippery eels. Her oodles of black curls with violet highlights, they reached her ankles and were wrapped around her tiny body as well as Tim's limbs.

"I'm fine." Dick picked himself off the ground with a grunt, running his hand through his tumbles of curls. He was tired. Mar'i got it into her head that four AM was a wonderful time to fly out of her crib and practise sharpshooting with noisy energy blasts that would destroy their home.

It wasn't that he couldn't parent, he was usually good at it, it was just a little harder when it was a waiting game before his path crossed Batman's again. That made him a ball of nerves.

"Here," Tim offered Dick's daughter back to him when she extended her chubby little arms to him. Nodding a thanks, Dick took her back while Tim shut and locked the window.

"D'a!" Mar'i playfully patted her father's cheek with an open palm as if she didn't just attempt a Prison Break of her own. One to make Michael Scofield shed a silent tear of pride.

Wearily, Dick smiled at Mar'i and kissed the top of her head.

"You want dinner, baby?" He asked and his reply was a rapid, expectant nod.

"Yh'di, d'a!" She exclaimed. Now, Dick knew enough Tamaranean to know she said 'Yes, daddy', and while he loved that Kori spoke her native tongue to their daughter... Shouldn't she be learning English more? Just...  _Priorities_.

Carrying Mar'i on his hip into the kitchen, Dick switched the lights on as they entered, Tim on his heels. The kid was comfortable enough here, he'd spent weekends before so this wasn't a totally new scene, but he was understandably on edge. Robin was trained to detect shifts in emotion and tension the instant it happened. Although twelve, Tim wasn't so much a child that he didn't understand something was amiss.

 _Twelve_... Dick thought about that while he plunked his daughter down in her highchair and went to rinse fruit he planned on cutting up for her. Fruit was the only thing she would eat for dinner.

The Robin suit was in the Cave, Dick didn't want it here for the simple reason that he didn't want a literal child, getting shot at on the streets. Jason was twelve too when he put the cape on and look at how that ended.

Muscular development started at that age, a twelve-year-old's body wasn't physically capable of the demands of Bruce's gruelling training. 

Cognitive development fully began then too. The growth of abstract thinking and problem-solving could become stunted by significant trauma, which Robin received a daily dose of.

Children of that age needed an average of ten hours of sleep per night for purely health-related reasons. Three hours undisturbed was the most Dick ever remembered being lucky enough to get.

Bruce... Did he even realise the damage he was doing to these kids both physically and psychologically? Irreversible damage.

Granted, Dick was eight when he became Robin, considerably younger than his successors, but it was completely different in his case, as far as he was concerned. His parents were teaching him tightropes and trapeze acts from the moment he could walk, thus strengthening his physique to withstand complex activity. It was genetic, a practised art that came with being a Grayson.

Robin training wasn't as brutal for him as it would have been for Jason and Tim. Worse for Tim, maybe, he didn't have Jason's advantage of being toughened up by fending for himself on the streets. 

Very much in his own thoughts, Dick placed a plastic bowl of sliced apples, halved grapes, and orange pieces in front of his daughter on the table. She flapped her arms in excitement, making happy pants at her favourite meal.

Tim was sitting on the edge of the counter, eating an apple in his hand. He looked thoughtful too, he wanted to know why he was here and not at the manor, and Dick had no idea how to begin explaining it.  Bruce was the only form of parental protection Tim knew after his parents died, how would he feel about the truth here?

Like ripping off a bandaid... But that was never a good idea until the wound was ready for it. 

He remembered the phone he may have broken with his weight and with the kids occupied by lunch, Dick pulled the device from his pocket, relieved to see its screen still intact. He also realised he had three missed calls and ten texts from Kyle Rayner.

"Mind Mar'i." Dick murmured to Tim as he urgently stepped into the next room. For the Lantern to be calling, it had to be something to do with the estranged troubled brother, Jason. The Romani's hand moved back through his hair and he gave a premature stressed-out sigh as he called back and listened to the flat ringing. Ring. Ring. Ring. Rin-

" _Dick, he's gone mental. He wants to kill Bruce but he can't and he doesn't get it or doesn't care and I've got him tied up and I don't know what to do_."

Dick didn't catch all that on the first go and took a second or two to piece it together in his head. But good God, it was still a mouthful.

"Jason wants to kill B?" That seemed like the crux of the matter, or at least from what he heard. It wasn't exactly news, though, Jason wasn't secretive about his justified feelings towards their evil foster father.

"Ky, he always wants to do that. Give him a moment to cool down and-"

 _"I don't think he's going to. He says he's gonna kill me as well once he gets free. I really don't know what to do. Please help._ "

He sounded desperate and concerned. With Kyle, that almost never happened which is how Dick knew he was being serious. If  _Kyle_  didn't know what to do with Jason, then it  _was_  very serious. He was the professor of knowing Jason's ins and outs.

Dick exhaled. He didn't have the heart to say no.

"I'll be there in ten. Keep him confined." It sounded easy, he knew, seeing as how Jason was paraplegic, non-super and relatively small for his age but that didn't make him a piece of cake to hold down. It was known.

 _"I... I'll try. Please hurry_."

Jesus, Kyle sounded like someone dropped him in Jurassic Park with the power off. He wasn't wrong to be afraid.

Exhaling, he hung up and Dick headed back into the kitchen to interrupt Mar'i's dinner so he could get her dressed to go out. Uncle Jay had lost his mind again.

* * *

 

Hmm... That was... Odd. Very odd. Jason must have imagined that brief tingle of pins and needles rolling beneath the flesh of his thigh. Phantom sensations. He got those from time to time so he ignored it and focused more on how he was going to escape the white energy cage Kyle built around him.

Fucking Kyle... Didn't he get that Jason couldn't go on living without making things even with Bruce? So him going on about the White Lantern taboo was really a moot point. And Jason wasn't a Lantern, why should he obey it?

He sat half slumped over and stared at the white bars caging him. It looked like nothing but light forming particular shapes but it was solid energy, not something the hand could pass through.

Kyle was such a prick, honestly. What was it to him if Jason committed a murder-suicide this afternoon? If he wanted to do that, it should be within his rights.

Glaring to himself, Jason spent a moment trying to make out Kyle's muffled words from the other room. He was on the phone with someone. He better  _not_  be calling Dick to save his ass. There would be severe consequences for that.

Abruptly, Jason stopped dead in the tracks of thought when that same cold sting prickled beneath the skin of his thigh, this time working its way along the back of his calf, down the curve of muscle to the joint of his ankle.

He frowned. What was that? He couldn't have imagined it again. Not the same thing. Was... was that a prickle of  _feeling_? Like,  _physical_?

As if he were frightened, his hand shook with small tremors as he tentatively laid it over his thigh, applying the tiniest bit of pressure. Holding his breath, he pushed a depression into his muscle.

... But what the hell was he expecting?  _Sensation_? His fingertips made indentations in his skin, yes, but he wouldn't know if he weren't looking. No feeling. Nothing out of the ordinary.  Just the same old dull numb nothingness encasing the limb.

Oh... Did he  _seriously_  just allow himself a glimmer of hope? Or... or did he really think for even a second that there was a chance any of this would end? 

Jason's teeth cut deep into his lip, hitting tiny veins and drawing out beads of blood. The sharp coppery scent most would recognise drifted faintly through the air. Too bad about this, really, because being able to walk by some stroke of magic would be perfect right now. Maybe he wouldn't be stuck in Kyle's fucking cage if he wasn't so uselessly immobile. 

Time to work on that cage, by the way.

Gritting his jaw, Jason didn't make it look effortless to lower himself onto the floor because it wasn't fucking  _effortless_. Simple things really never were. Once on the ground, he pulled himself to the bars of the energy cage, bars that we're thick but wide apart. Maybe wide enough to...

Gripping the grating tightly around, Jason gave a small grunt, managing to get himself between them. It was a tight fit but like Ky had commented, he was pretty thin, and Ky had underestimated just how much that was the case..

Jason dragged himself through, across the rough concrete, keeping quiet so as not to alert that damn Kyle. He would find himself in restraints again. And not even the fun sort.

He had no idea where to go from here but he wasn't staying in the cage, in lock-up, like this was juvie all over again. If it were, he could just suck someone off to free himself. Simple. But unfortunately, Kyle was more complex than that.

Hmm... Propping himself up on his elbows, Jason began to think his best chance of getting this done was to hook up a soldier-of-fortune to kill Bruce. Slade Wilson owed him one, Floyd Lawton was on his speed dial, there was no shortage of eligible guns at his ready.

All justified anger aside, Jason accepted this might be hard for him to do by himself when he couldn't fucking walk. But one way or another, the Bat was dying.

Chewing on his lip in the effort, he hauled his body towards the computer tables where his phone was, wondering if he should just cut his damn legs off to make his life easier and -  _argh_!

A sliver of something hard and cold and  _sharp_  pushed into his thigh. Holding a quick gasp of air, Jason screwed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw against the sudden pain.  Shit, what just happened? There must've been something on the ground he didn't see, a shard of glass or piece of metal or-

 _Wait_. Hold the fucking phone.

Wincing, Jason turned over onto his side, leaning on his elbow as his shaking fingers glided to the aching part of his limb. The limb he  _shouldn't_  feel. When his fingerpads landed on the wound, he felt hot sticky wetness and the solid ridge of glass sticking out him, nestled among the muscle and heat and blood.

But mostly, he felt it.

He fucking  _felt_  it. The pain. The sharpness in his leg. Clear as day.

Rolling over onto his back, leaning on both elbows now, Jason stared in shock and confusion at the pulsating throb emanating from the gash. Blood dribbled out onto the floor, soaking that patch of his jeans. The injury wasn't bad, a flesh wound, and that really wasn't the point here. His muscles twitched around the invasive protrusion. Twitched. That meant  _moved_.

Tentative, cautious to not be disappointed again, Jason sat up and decided to take a risk. Against all logic. He had almost forgotten how to move his leg when it'd been so long. But he focused every bit of his willpower on accomplishing this one tiny task with so much riding on it.

And there it was. Half an inch of movement. Jason didn't understand it, how or why, but he knew what it meant.

* * *

 

Kyle gave a very long and tired sigh when Dick hung up with the promise of providing backup. He slipped his phone back into his pocket and prayed to a higher power that when he went back in there, Jason wouldn't attack him again.

That's right.  _Again_. There were bruises up and down his forearms where Jason repeatedly struck him when he tried to confine him. The fact that Jason never skipped arm day really showed when he was being violent.

Mostly, Kyle wanted to hide from that crippled maniac until Dick came.

But he also couldn't do that. Why? Because he had no sense of self-preservation and cared about Jason too much, all to his own peril.

So with the bravery to rival Daniel's, and all with no God to fuse the lion's mouth shut, Kyle went back into the main room of the warehouse. The cage was there and so was the wheelchair.

But... No Jason.  _No Jason._

 Now  _that_  was alarming.

Kyle's heart leapt into his throat way before he noticed the small puddle of fresh ruby red on the floor, by drag marks that lead a short distance to the trail of blood droplets.

What the fuck? Where -  _how - what_? How did Jason get out of the cage? He couldn't fucking walk, where did he go? And the blood - did he get hurt?

 _Don't be an idiot, Rayner, of course, he did. There wouldn't be this mess if he hadn't_.

 _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck_. Kyle dashed to the doorway since he  _needed_  to find Jason before someone who would hurt him did. Someone like  _Bruce_. Jesus, that soulless fucker would wreck Jason if Jay tried to kill him as he previously planned. And those plans were still fresh.

How Jason dragged himself this far, this fast, it was beyond Kyle but he didn't care about it right now. He cared about finding his fucking Robin and-

"Whoa, Rayner!"

In his rush, Kyle nearly rang full-force into Dick, Dick's baby daughter, and Tim walking by his side. The Romani's pure blue eyes were big and surprised by almost being mowed down, his arms closing protectively around Mar'i. Not that she cared about what just happened.

"Khai! Khai!" Mar'i exclaimed with an enunciated H, waving a chubby hand, a delighted milk-toothy smile lightning up her face. It was sweet, very sweet, but it had no place in the current situation.

"D'a, et dr'ej t'ohk?" She turned her head to smile up at her father in undiluted innocence. Patting her mop of black hair, Dick replied quickly and briefly in Tamaranean, whatever he said strictly between him and his daughter.

Dick homed in on Kyle's panic at once, he prioritised that over Mar'i's rambling.

"What's going on? Where's Jason?"

Kyle only managed to half-explain coherently when he himself was only so certain how Jason did it, when Dick pushed his daughter into his little brother's arms.

"Stay here with Mar'i, I and Kyle need to go find your predecessor."  

Tim was confused, he wanted to ask a question but at the speed Dick shot off, it was impossible.

"Lock the doors, kid." Kyle advised Tim as he went after Dick, both of them jogging towards his parked convertible in the nearest lot.

"My suit's in there. I'll get changed quick, we need to find him before he does something stupid." The Romani said in between popping the trunk and opening the locked case containing Nightwing's gear and weapons.

Kyle watched Dick urgently pull the upper half of the spandex and Kevlar over his lithe torso, working so fast his hands were a blur. Good, he was taking this as seriously as it was.

"He can't fucking  _walk_. How did he run off?"

"I don't know." Kyle shook his head, delving deeper into the hopeless void that was trying to understand how Jason accomplished the things he did.

"But if he gets to Bruce-"

"He's dead." Dick finished the sentence grimly, slamming the trunk shut as he smoothed his mask over his eyes.

 

* * *

 

It was just like those nights Jason used to spend tucked beneath the wing of the gargoyle perched on the roof of St. James's Parrish, his Robin cape fluttering in the wind, his knees touching his chest. An argument with Bruce usually drove him here. Even when the man knew all his hiding spots by now, Jason felt safest here. Not entirely safe. Never. Just less unsafe than normally.

It was a night as dark and rainy as then, just as unsafe, just as uncertain in its outcome.

The pilfered prototype of the second Robin's suit certainly made him feel in character. It felt  _amazing_  to have the familiar weight of Kevlar and armour plating on his back again.

The Bat was driving through Gotham, high speed, cutting corners like he'd never touched the breaks, no doubt after a villain. Well, he would be delayed a bit, seeing as Jason chose that moment to put the brakes on his evening plans. 

Jason waited for the vehicle to pass below the building then timing in his head, he jumped. Oh, the joy of mobility.

His boots left indentations in the hood of the batmobile. The thud was one to be heard across the streets. Quickly, Jason knelt to maintain his balance, gripping the edge of the hood as Bruce made the vehicle veer in an obvious attempt to throw Jason off.

Their glares interlocked right about the time the excommunicated Robin whipped the gun off his belt and pounded five shots through the windshield. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've actually spent fifteen minutes staring at a blank screen, tryna think of a smart note but I got nothing. Just be aware I tried.


	9. In Any Way That Actually Matters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Listens to Shinedown's "Enemies" and thinks about this chapter*

When Bruce pounced again, Jason managed to kick the man away. He was thrown just far enough for the ex-Robin to try gain distance between them when his leg was pulled from beneath him.  _Smack_. He scraped his chin when he hit the asphalt but had no time to mourn that with Bruce hauling him off somewhere by his ankle.

He had no fucking clue what Bruce was doing but he didn't need to understand to realise how badly he had to escape his clutches  _now_.

Metal rattled together.

Bruce drew the solid iron baton from his belt and he raised it above his head to bring down on Jason's. Driven by sheer survival instinct, Jason twisted out his grasp just as the lethal end of his weapon smashed the ground where he'd been seconds ago.

"Do you  _really_  want to be crippled again, Jason?" Bruce demanded in between attacks Jason dodged with twists of his body and deft backflips. Moving like this, it hurt, in truth. Whatever magic there was in Kyle's ring somehow made it possible for him to jump around but his body had grown unaccustomed to it.

Even though, he wasn't going to keel over and let Bruce win.

"Gonna have to be faster to get that done, old man." Jason ducked beneath the iron singing through the air when it tried singing through  _him_. Bruce didn't ask to know how he was on his feet again, he just insistently came at his so-called son with every muscle drawn taut to attack. His eyes had gone black like a shark's, soulless dull and filmed over by something primal.

Jason spun a kick through the air, Bruce blocked it on his forearm, caught Jason's leg and hurled him at the wrecked Batmobile half through the side of a building.

Agile as he ever was, the only parts of Jason that touched the ground were his palms and fingers when he flipped himself back onto his feet. Wincing, his teeth were set so hard it hurt, his brow furrowed into a deep scowl of focus. How was he going to do this? Bruce was much bigger, much stronger, and light-years more advanced in combat.

Narrowly escaping another whack of the baton, Jason decided to take a new approach. Kill remained as the objective but achieving it might need some re-planning. He thought back on everything Batman ever taught him about close-range combat with an opponent superior in body mass and strength. 

" _Play on their blindside, Robin. Home in on the weak points and strike once with enough damage to be detrimental. Chances are, you won't get another chance._ "

 _Weak points_? Pfft.  _Fuck_. Bruce didn't have any such  _thing_. 

But Jason wasn't one to let anything go without his god-honest hardest try. Specifically when it was something twisting to be done. 

He went at Bruce again, choosing to this time aim at the places in his armour that weren't solid iron or dense kevlar, but those spots were few and far apart. And he was getting weaker. He sensed it, the same weakness he felt when Kyle was at an inconvenient proximity. The sort of weakness one could expect from undernourishment or excessive thirst.  Fucking Kyle, making them  _codependent_.

Getting only a few good hits in, Jason realised quickly what he needed to do to avoid getting murdered against the rain-drenched asphalt. And he didn't like the idea of it but Bruce wasn't coming at him full force, were that to change, at the flip of a card Jason would find himself at his mercy. And there would be none to find.

Gods, this could have been thought out better. 

The former Robin darted from Bruce just as he was about to concuss him with one of those massive balled fists, running with a limp hindering him though that was strange since... his leg nor hip had yet been damaged. He didn't like that nor what it could mean as he'd feared his rediscovered skill of full manoeuvrability might be only temporary,  and  _now_  that shit decided to make him think this may be more than simply a fear. 

Grinding his teeth together, he kicked as much speed into himself as his body allowed, chased by Bruce to an unintentionally specific location at the breakwater stretching out across the bay, right by that lovely spot Bruce no doubt regretted not drowning him at. Jason wanted to get that fucker away from the city and people who could get hurt when he did as he planned and blew them both straight to fucking hell. They'd be at home there. 

The tail ends of his cape got snatched up by Bruce, he yanked Jason back with a choked noise from him but the boy quickly unclipped the fasteners attaching him to that piece of fabric, letting it be torn off his shoulders but by then, he was already within hand's reach. 

This time, there was no tether on the brutality as the man who once made him think he cared viciously slammed Jason into the breakwater's stone ground, his weight piling on the far smaller body all at once to pin him helplessly. Rocks cut into Jason's spine and his back, his arms and every part of him that Bruce forced to crush against the rough dirt beneath. He could hardly breathe and they were both aware of that. 

"Do you have  _any_  idea how difficult you were? How you disobeyed and talked-back to  _every_  order?" The Bat demanded with an aggressive bite, fingers mining bruises into Jason's muscle even through his suit, barely providing any protection despite its intended purpose.

" _How_  did you expect this to turn out?"

"I am  _sorry_  it was so  _hard_  for you to deal with me but guess what?" Jason gave Bruce a desperately furious one-way ticket off him in the form of a kick to his abdomen. The man stumbled while Jason unsteadily leapt up onto his feet and if he had cat ears, they would be flat against his head in rage. His lip was drawn back with the fearsome hiss from between his bared teeth.

"I  _never_  asked you to when you're the worst thing that could have  _ever_  happened to me." If he could redo his life or go back in time, he would tell little car-jacking eleven-year-old him to fucking  _run_  from that tempting matte black military-grade vehicle in Crime Alley.

It wasn't worth all of this. It never was.  _Nothing_  was.

"As always, that's very tragic, Jason." Bruce sarcastically said, his features somehow twisted darker than his onyx cowl. 

"But you need to get over yourself already. This stopped being cute after the first twelve hundred times, now it's just pathetic." 

Jason's jaws ground together so tight he tasted blood and didn't know what part of himself he just broke. The growing aching in his back didn't feel like shit beside these comments that shouldn't cut as deep as they did when he already hated this man and expected nothing from him. But somehow, Bruce always found a way to leave a deeper wound than he did last. He struck bone marrow this time. 

" _Pathetic_?" He asked with straining tension in his voice that he felt in his eyes too.  _Stupid. Stupid. Stupid, stop it_. As they faced each other down, Jason fumbled with the explosives hooked to his belt, pulling off as many into one hand as he could fit.

"Pathetic says the man forcing fucking  _children_  to fight his made-up battles." Unwanted and uninvited, a familiar wet sensation brimmed over his lashline that he vaguely recognised as tears, sliding down his cheeks on both sides. He wasn't sad, he refused to be, he was just so unfathomably enraged that all of it couldn't fit into his body and part had to spill over. 

The tears fucked with the consistency of the spirit glue fixing his mask over his eyes, making it wet and stick poorly. So Jason opted to tear the whole damn thing off and hurl it somewhere to the side. His wide and angry blue eyes locked on Bruce meters across the ground from him, letting him stare and pick out any emotion he might find.

" _Look_  at me. Do I look like a fucking kid mewling at daddy's feet 'cause you  _upset_  me?" At some point during their confrontation, rain had begun to descend as if from a shower and Jason's hair fell heavily across his eyes like a ruined veil. His voice shuddered from the cold and the heat of rage.

"We're here 'cause you made me your fucking  _enemy_. You  _don't_  get to think I'm a kid throwing a tantrum at his daddy. We. Are.  _Enemies_."  With that thing he intended to be the final word between them, he swung his arm back to throw the bombs that would take them both out, when his balance suddenly shifted heavily to his left as if something in him caved. He staggered, stumbled, the explosives falling as he tried to regain his footing. 

Except he was unable, he wasn't quick enough to do anything that would have saved him hitting the rain-drenched ground like a ton of bricks. He wasn't sure if he gasped or not, he might have done, it all faded into background static as his mind raced to pick himself up and figure out what happened.

Hurriedly pulling himself onto his elbows, Jason made to kick away from the approaching figure of Bruce's hulking form, but to his alarm, the way his body had forced him to become accustomed to, his left leg refused to obey his commands. It left his brain sending drastic signals to the right one that couldn't accomplish anything on its own. 

Mildly panicking, he made a rushed attempt to reach the bomb closest to him, only to have it violently kicked away.

"Always falling short of what you're trying to accomplish, Jason." Bruce shook his head as his hand lurched out and wrapped around Jason's throat, crushing the words and breath. Jason hit at him and kicked out as much as he could with just the one working leg when he was hoisted off the ground, choking as the fingers closed tighter. 

"You must be used to it by now." 

* * *

 

On his knees, Jason grinned through the blood in his teeth. He smiled up at the Bat to make sure he knew he wasn't scaring anyone.

"You know, you can throw me off this pier and it won't save you any grief." Jason commented as a pearl of blood rolled down his chin and fell onto his bound hands, connecting him to the mooring block. It was densely packed concrete, it would drag Jason straight to the bottom of the bay.

"Because..." The ex-Robin prolonged the end of his sentence as he shifted from his numbing leg to his completely useless one.

"A while ago, I installed a stage four virus on your computers at the Cave as well as the hard drives with all those  _nasty_  secrets at Wayne tower. That virus, made it a while ago and I manually disable it daily to keep it from ruining Batman and Mr Wayne. If I don't, all your dirty laundry gets emailed to media and law enforcement across the world."

From high,  _high_  above Jason, the white lenses over Bruce's eyes narrowed to angry slivers that had gazed upon the ex-Robin too many times to cause an effect. Bruce could tell what conclusion Jason was drawing out here and it made him so, so very angry.

"... But not because I  _care_  about you. I disable it since the one time I  _don't_  will be when you kill me, which means you'll be committing social suicide at the same time." Pleased with himself, Jason leaned back, the chain links jingling softly against one another. He grinned wolfishly. The noose was around his neck, yes, but he would gladly step off the edge just to pull Bruce with him.

"... So that's how you're going to try to save yourself?  _Bargaining_?" Bruce was only slightly affected, he might not believe Jason but he would woe that. He began dragging the mooring block closer towards the edge of the breakwater, leaving long white scrapes along the ground, bearing the rock.

"Oh, I'm not  _bargaining_." Jason manoeuvred himself partially around to never lose sight lock.

"I just want you to know you can't kill me in any way that actually matters. Whatever you do, I win."

"Forget that I taught you? I can disable any little trap you think is foolproof." He lifted the block off the ground by a few inches and swung it the last foot of distance to the edge until it was only his hand holding it on solid ground. The moment he let go, it would teeter over.

"You forget  _I_  taught me how to design viruses? You always said I was too idiotic to learn that shit. Who's the idiot now?" Bruce really thought Jason was playing with him here? That virus required a thirty digit code changed daily and a retinal scan from  _him_  to be disabled for the day. And then it reset itself and the process would have to be repeated. Bruce couldn't destroy it, it had backup servers that would survive a nuclear weapon.

But  _no_. Bruce was so full of himself that he truly believed this was something easy to diffuse. Because he was Batman, infinitely intelligent and infinitely capable. Student can't become the master, can he? Someone was in for a surprise. 

"Can't say I'm shocked you'd rather drown me than save face. That's exactly like you." While he filled Bruce's ear with carefree chatter, Jason watched the dot of light in the distance from his peripheral. That was either a star flying dangerously close to the city.... or his Lantern idiot breaking the sound barrier.

As aforesaid, whatever happened, Jason would come out on top. Star or Lantern, he didn't care.

"I tried to make you better than this, Jason." Bruce broke the silence on his part and Jason returned his full attention to him.

"I  _refuse_  to be whatever you consider  _better_."

"That's too bad then."

They caught one another's eye, glares darkened to the centre of a hurricane, a tense heartbeat passed and Bruce dropped the block over the edge.

* * *

 

 _Oh no_. Kyle did not like that explosion of water or the splash he made out over the wind rushing past his ear. He didn't like it one bit. He physically could not fly any faster, he was dragging out all the power the ring had to give and it wasn't enough. It didn't feel like enough. He fastened his hands tighter around Dick's upper arms to make sure he didn't drop the OG Robin as he zoomed through the airspace.

As they got closer to the red taillights of the batmobile by the breakwater, Kyle spotted the unmistakable figure of Batman looming by the water's edge, watching a flurry of bubbles teeming to the surface.

No... No -  _no!_

Dick saw it too. He made the same connection and didn't linger to dwell on it. The second they were above water, he tensed his body, rigid to absorb impact. Kyle knew what he was thinking and couldn't object. He let go of Dick and didn't stay watch him plunge through the bay's surface. The Lantern was too busy ploughing an energy construct shaped like a bludgeon into the Bat. He dodged it,  _figures_ , and shot Kyle a sharp look, aggressive as the storm of batarangs he threw.

Oh, so bitch wanted to fight, huh?

* * *

 

Dry as a bone one moment and drenched  _to_  the bone the next, Dick dove into the sea with an eruption of silvery bubbles, making himself as streamlined as possible to cut through the water and get to Jason.

He could see the blurry black shape at the bottom of the bay, meters down, faintly recognisable as human, and he kicked towards it, pulling water through his cupped hands and transferring it into momentum. There was no sound, everything was muted, but his brain still managed to drown him in a cacophony of panicking voices not his own, but rather an insecure and fearful Robin's. 

_He's drowned. You're too late. He's already dead._

_No_. He absolutely wasn't because Jason didn't die that easily.

But that assurance was put into doubt when Dick reached his little brother. Figures, Jay didn't bob around waiting to be saved but his struggles to escape the gleaming chains were beginning to enfeeble from oxygen deprivation. His eyes were heavy-lidded and falling shut even as his hands clumsily fumbled with the lock. Large bubbles escaped his lips as it got harder and harder to keep them pressed together.

Dick caught Jason's shoulder and pulled himself through the undertows to his little brother, using one arm at his side for some semblance of balance. Jason didn't react to him at all, he was beginning to lose his consciousness to the airless depths. 

The lock was operated by rotating number dials, five of them and there was no time to pick it and no way, not without being able to hear the clicks of the inner mechanics. Dick snatched the knife from the sheath on his boot and slammed its slender point into the nearest chain link. He drove it deep and twisted, trying to pry the metal apart. A string of bubbles escaped the grit dam of his teeth with the effort. 

 _C'mon... c'mon_...

His weight was thrown forth as the blade reached its breaking point and snapped clean across its metal into fragments sinking out of reach in seconds. Cursing in his head, all sorts of profanities with no place in civil language, Dick reached his third and last option before time ran out.

Hand over hand, with aid from the chain, he hastily dragged himself to the mooring block and just as the burning in his lungs began to get close to unbearable, he angled himself right to kick the lock as hard as his oxygen-deprived muscles could.  _Thwack_. He kicked again.  _Thwack_. And again, each time sparks of white bouncing past his eyes, body and brain joining in a synchronous cry to beg him to swim back up.

Except he wouldn't. He wouldn't leave Jason down here in the dark and cold.

But his martyrism was doing him no favours; he was getting dizzy and losing focus on the hands he was desperately trying to free his little brother with. The world was becoming thick and sluggish, like he was swimming in syrup and not Gotham bay. 

Dick wasn't sure if he was dying when white light burst through the water around him and Jason, he would be justified for thinking so for the few seconds before the light became a solid energy construct that curled around them like fingers. As soon as it had a grip, it tore them towards the surface it broke through within a heartbeat. 

Gasping violently as water poured off his body, Dick struggled in the energy entrapping him as Kyle lowered him and Jason onto the breakwater. He was released and he scrambled up onto his feet, his balance off but that didn't stop him from rushing to his motionless brother.  He didn't waste time to check where Bruce was, though if he had, he would have seen the contrast of white on black as the vigilante was powerlessly caged in Lantern energy after a quick battle with Kyle.

Crashing to his knees beside his ex-Robin, time froze and Kyle stared at the long spidery shadows Jason's eyelashes cast down his cheeks. The overhead street lights with their yellowy bulbs made his pale skin flush with a dull golden colour. There was such stillness of his blueing lips, no breath passing betwixt them. Just tiny trails of water running down on either side.

Then Kyle snapped out of the horrified trance, kicking him back into action. He didn't think to move, his body just did it without his brain's sayso, placing one hand on top of the other over Jason's heart, applying compression to a rhythmic beat in his head.  _One, two, three, four, five... twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty._

He bent over Jason, taking his chin in his index and thumb, Kyle turned his face. He took a deep breath, held it in his chest and placed his mouth over the ex-Robin's. The air in his lungs, he released it, blowing it into Jason. The power of his ring, it began to pulsate visibly around his hand, then his arm and both their bodies. He repeated the act of forcing breath into Jason's body and while he did, he heard Dick get off his knees. 

The masked Romani's weighted footsteps made wet noises on the asphalt as he approached his former mentor as an emotionless shell of the beloved Nightwing.

" _Dick_ , untie me  _now_." Bruce growled at him as if he had any authority to control the situation by. He glared daggers at his eldest and noticed nothing else but the denial to comply. Dick stared at him without a flicker of emotion and it was the scariest way anyone had ever seen the vigilante.

"Do you  _want_  me to do something we'll both regret to your  _daughter_? Do as I say or Mar'i might get hurt like Jason did."

At the snap of unseen fingers, Dick burst out of the emotional void gripping him and with an animalistic scream of rage,  he spun on his heel to slam his escrima stick full force into Bruce's skull. The solid iron cracked grotesquely against bone that was frail by comparison, blood erupting with the sick wet smack.

Kyle wasn't looking but he heard the slump of a body hitting the ground followed by a series of strikes in succession quickly thereafter; Dick beating the man he once referred to as father in a mindless fit of too-strong yet justified emotion. It seemed that blood-splattered or a bone broke with every slam of the iron bar. The kevlar and armour plates bent and dented, unable to block the impact when it was this brutal.

The second the Lantern spared them a worried glance, he felt Jason start coughing beneath his hands and the sound nearly made him sob for relief. The coughs started out weak but got forceful in less than one-quarter of a minute, turning into gasping raw breaths in and out.

Blinking in confusion at his surroundings, Jason's first instinct was propping himself up on his shaking arms as he struggled to breathe past the water in his lungs, and Kyle helped him in that department, slotting his hand behind Jason's back and sitting him up against his shoulder.  He winced at the sound of the ex-Robin's wheezing breaths rattling in his chest, he could feel them against his own skin. 

With a sweep of his hand, Kyle sent a razor-sharp wave of energy to cut the chains connecting Jason to the mooring block, as the weight of them around his body could not be making it easy for his respiratory system to function. The links fell loose with an audible clinking.

As water ran down his lips and chin, Jason gave Kyle a wary, exhausted glance from his peripheral. In between coughing into his hands, he murmured a line that could not ring truer.

"You're... you're too n - nice to me...  _Rayner_." 

Nodding, Kyle sighed as he patted Jason on the back. He knew he was too generous with his second-chances. Just as he knew Dick didn't stop whacking Bruce with the escrima stick even after the man went senseless. 

"And I..." Jason continued, hand trembling as he gestured to his lower half.

"I c - can't walk again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did we win? Did we lose? In a certain and deep sense, it's both.


	10. Out Of The Blue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are. I am gonna pretend that I spent ages trying to make this perfect and ignore the reality of writing half of it today in a rush. I hope you like it.

Staring at the floor, Kyle was grim as Jason described what happened to every detail. Beads of water dripped-dropped quietly off the armour plates of the damned Robin-suit, the symptom of this madness. The water landed in the growing puddle by Jason and sent a subtle shock of ripples across its surface every time a translucent pearl landed. 

His back to the breakwater's rough rock wall, Jason was drenched and cold, the throb of his injuries starting to burn with the fading rush of adrenaline. His hair hung heavy in his eyes, arms  quivering, even his bottom lip trembled. Kyle had already turned back into his civilian clothes and swathed Jason in his jacket, against the ex-Robin's insistence that he didn't need to be babied. Now Jason's blue fingers were curled loosely around the opening of the too-big garment.

Somehow, Kyle could make out every word of the recounting despite the way they seemed to fade into the distance,  he was too preoccupied listening to the waves that sought to drown Jason, now harmlessly lapping at the mooring dock. And he was thinking about the great and mighty Batman, a symbol of justice. Like, Kyle knew the guy was scum for sure but somehow this exceeded what he'd been ready to expect. Trying to  _kill_  his own son? Especially this slowly? It was terrifying to think he was seconds from success.

It was easy to tell himself Dick beating the shit out of the soulless fucker was way too good for him. He deserved worse. Worse than Dick stopping an inch from the fatal blow when his morality sunk its claws in after the brief relapse, and he realised what he was doing. Who else but the Justice League were got on the line but not just any random member.  _Apparently_ , Dick was close friends with Zatanna the Witch, of all people. 

She came quickly and the three of them went somewhere via portal, never explaining the details of their plan to Jason or Kyle. Kyle did notice Jay's quick little smirk when he realised the blood splattered across Dick's face was the Bat's, it seemed to breathe life into him. Kyle was surprised Jason didn't throw a fit when the man wasn't killed, but maybe that would come later and he was presently too busy rerunning the incidents through his head to realise. 

Kyle came out of his thoughts to the sharp sound of Jason's sneezing into his hands and coughing straight after. There was mucus in his throat, it was evident just by his shallow difficult breaths. 

"Dammit..." Muttering, Jason cleared his voice harshly, the tip of his tongue darting along the cracked and bruised flesh of his lip. For a moment, his gaze went elsewhere, somewhere off to the side and towards the bay. Golden lights from the city shimmered beautifully on the water's gentle surface, the surrealism of it defying what happened here not thirty minutes ago. The stillness swallowed up the violence.

In the silence where sentimental piano playing wouldn't be out of place, Kyle watched Jason, eyes travelling across his shivering body to the bruises visible around his throat from beneath the collar of the suit, wandering upward to trace the cut line of his jaw and then finally, his bloody, scratched-up face. A particularly deep looking gash ran from the corner of Jason's eye to his cheekbone, easily caused by the Bat's iron-knuckled gauntlet.

This was the  _second_  time Kyle needed to drag Jason away from death's door and that was twice too much. 

"Wh - what are you doing?" Surprised, Jason tried to lean back when Kyle did so forward, but the Lantern's arms were too quick to move around and hold him still enough to press their lips together. An icy cold poured off Jason's chilled body, so intense that Kyle felt it even through their clothes, and the ex-Robin's shivering didn't lessen any at all with the heat from Kyle. Much to Kyle's surprise,  _very_  much, Jason didn't shove him off when he broke the kiss, but he pushed himself against Kyle, fitting so perfectly into that space. 

Defeatedly, Jason pressed his face into Kyle's shoulder, making a whimpery little hopeless noise that didn't fit his fiery temperament. Confusion written in the lines of his frown, Kyle closed his arms all the way around the former Robin, holding him closer. 

"... I was  _fine_ , Ky." He quietly said, expression hidden.

"I was fucking  _fine_  one second and... and then I'm falling flat again. I - I liked  _not_  being fucking pathetic."  Blinking heavily, Jason sat back ever so slightly but remained in the loop of Kyle's arms. The sparkling stars of tears shone in his big blue eyes, the change in his breathing audible despite the waves in the background.

" _Why_?" He looked up at Kyle with a tremor in his lips. For a moment, the Lantern was lost for words. The fleeting instances where Jason let his humanity show enough to be upset were so few and far apart that he didn't know how to respond. Kyle had allowed himself to become used to Jason keeping it all inside, therefore he was uncertain when he didn't. 

"Well... There are many possibilities, Jason." Kyle slowly coerced himself to begin with, unable to disguise the fact that despite all of his hypothesis, he wasn't sure why Jason's legs only worked on and off.

"But  _what's_  the reason?" Roughly, Jason palmed at the wetness in his eyes with the backs of his hands, irritated at himself for expressing the emotion.

"Uh... Jay, it might be like I explained before. The White Lantern energy can't reside in an unworthy vessel; you tried to kill someone. It goes against the honour code."

Rhythmically, thoughtfully, Jason tapped his fingers on the kevlar covering the scars on his belly. He was looking out towards the bay again, a slow tear rolling the length of his cheek.

"But wouldn't I be dead then?"

 _Good point._  Kyle chewed on his lip, rummaging through his brain for every lesson in Lantern lore that Hal, Guy, Kilowog and John had ever given him. But it wasn't the same, they were  _green_ , they didn't share the same principles. Kyle was a founding member of the White Corps, there was no one in the higher-ups who could tell him what was happening with Jay. And he  _wanted_  to help Jason.

And then as if by magic, Kyle thought of something.

"Give me your hand, sweetheart." He said, pushing Jason partially away from him so he could rise to his feet. Brows knitting, Jason watched him in confusion, chin tilted upwards.

" _Why_?" Jay frowned. Even as he held back, Kyle reached to take his cold curled hand into his own warmer one. The darkness around them drowned in the soft white light of Kyle summoning his suit from the ring.

"Because I want to try something I just thought of. It might work." Kyle held onto Jason's hand, energy beginning to flow through his arm to Jay. 

"Since I've been spending more time with you lately, I figured my power's proximity to you must have healed your back. But then it just...  _Reversed_  it? Nah, I don't think so." As he explained, Jason's confusion became ever-more defined on his facial structure.

"So... what if... What if you're just  _out_?"

" _Out_?" Jay tilted his head, so adorably puzzled it melted Kyle's heart to ooze. Except he should focus on this moment of reality instead of that.

"Yeah." Kyle nodded. "Like, out of juice. Energy.  _Power_. Kinda how my ring runs empty after a while if I don't charge it and my carry-on battery needs a top-up now and then." 

Biting his lips, Jason gave a small stuttery breath as every cell and nerve end suddenly lit up at Kyle transferring his power the same way he did at the destroyed warehouse so long ago. The rush of energy blew Jay's eyes wide and his hair back, jaws falling apart. White light beat around them like a heart, the thrum of its intensity eating up the air around.

Filling Jason with his power, it was just as intense of a feeling as the first time, taking Kyle's breath as it did Jay's. For the blink of an eye, every scar on Jason's body became a line of bright illumination as if the seams of his skin were painlessly pulling apart.

But then quickly, the loud rushing energy flooded into Jay and vanished from the air with a final whoosh to silence. Complete and utter still silence. 

Groaning, Jason slumped and caught himself on his hands, his fingers slipping from Kyle's grip. He panted breathlessly, the Lantern's hoodie falling from around his narrow shoulders and rustling to the ground.

"You good?" Kyle asked while he bent to take Jason beneath his arms and help him up. Jay muttered something moody and tried to pull free, only to then realise what Kyle had done to him.  _For_  him. 

Confusion drew his brows closely together, Jason stared at his own limbs as if he'd never seen them before as it appeared for now, Kyle was  _right_. Shakily with aid from the Lantern, Jason stumbled to an unsteady stand, eyes widening to the size of saucers. 

"K - Ky, what - what did you do?" Bewildered, Jason gaped at him but his eyes lit up in bright confusion. Almost as bright was the light radiating from between the kevlar and armour plates over Jason's belly, the old wound reminding them of its existence.

"Just recharged you, angel." Kyle smiled in return, one hand around Jason's upper arm while the other rested on his hip for balance. Jason was still shaking from the effort of demanding strength from his aching muscles and limbs, enough to stand. It hurt, it had to, but he looked excited and...  _happy_.

"I think that while my power gradually healed you, it also needs to be rejuvenated sometimes like the ring does, seeing as how you don't produce the energy in your body. And-"

Jason cut Kyle off by kissing him. Out of nowhere, like a bolt from the blue. That was the first time he ever kissed the Lantern and felt like he might mean it. He all but threw himself at a surprised Kyle, his arms encircling his neck, skilful lips softly biting the way Kyle always found cute.

Recovering from shock quick, one of the Lantern's arms moved around Jay's lower back, drawing him in nearer, firmer against his chest until there wasn't an inch of space separating them.

It felt like relief and gratitude, security and the first rare bit of open unashamed emotion in months.

The ex-Robin was still drenched from the ocean, Kyle was beginning to feel that through his own clothes but he could care less.

Soon, much too soon, Jay pulled back and gave them half an inch of distance, their slightly elevated breathing twining into one steady hum of life. Kyle's fingers framed Jason's face on either side and he hadn't realised until now that his heart was skipping every third beat. Those big blue eyes were on him, a tiny smile playing on the corners of the other's lips. A tiny timid smile.

He was going to say something but the Lantern was faster.

"You  _finally_  gonna admit you love me, sweetcheeks?" Kyle grinned teasingly, right about the moment Jason's expression twisted and he shoved him back as if he was a revolting, diseased animal drooling at his feet.

"What -  _no_! F -  _fuck_  you!" It was very sweet, really, how Jason was as flustered as he was horrified, eyes shot wide before he scowled murderously. His teeth bared, all defensive as if Kyle just pulled a weapon on him.

The Lantern smirked to himself as Jason stomped off in a foul mood, limping only slightly. It was really a wonder what anger did for his mobility. First his fight with Batman and now this.

"Just -  _ugh._ I can't with you." Was the last thing Jason yelled over his shoulder that was coherent over the wind and waves.

Smiling, Kyle went after his angry little pest. Jay would forgive him the moment his libido kicked back in and he needed attention. And he was right, by the way. Jason managed to stay grumpy for  _two_  whole hours.

* * *

Arms folded with drying blood-streaked up them, Dick glared hatefully at the large man floating motionlessly in the energy bubble. The deep sienna and violet colour of it matched the background skies and poisonous looking grass. It was silent for miles all around, pink wisps of feathery clouds drifting across the horizon, all in different directions with no sayso from the nonexistent wind. The only sound was the rumble of his angry thoughts and the groaning and creaking of the shifting ground beneath Dick's feet as if some gargantuan beast was stretching beneath the dirt. 

They weren't on Earth or any discernible dimension, this place wasn't a blip on anyone's radar, just a sliver of scrambled reality existing between dimensions that he and Zatanna found once, years ago by accident. The inverted colour palette inspired them to nickname it the Chromatic Zone and it was a perfect, undetectable, secure place to imprison someone. Only the two of them knew about this zone.

Which made it the perfect location to drag the Bat to while they figured out what to do with him. By no means, could he be allowed to return to the streets because he made some  _dangerous_  promises.  Dick didn't doubt that if he freed Bruce now, the man would seek out Jason straight away and... and maybe worse, seek out  _Mar'i_. God... how the fuck did he dare bring  _her_  into this? She was  _four,_  barely out of her toddling stage and her  _lovely_  grandfather was threatening violence on her. 

The moment those words left his lips, ' _Do you want me to do something we'll both regret to your daughter? Do as I say or Mar'i might get hurt like Jason did_ ', Bruce pretty much sealed his fate in regards to for however long Dick lived for, he wasn't letting this monster go free.  _Never_. 

Here in the Chromatic Zone, time didn't move or pass, it was all one unchanging blurry abyss unaffected by the change happening past the dimensional barrier, it was the perfect place to hide away someone as known as Batman. The League would notice his absence fast but Zatanna and Dick wouldn't know anything about it if they were asked, they already agreed on that.

Undoubtedly, many members of the JLA  would be on their side if they were shown the recorded footage the tiny cameras installed into each of the Bats' masks captured of that incident on the docks. Sharing it was something Dick fully intended to do in time, but... he needed to plan, pace, and weigh every possible outcome before he took a step in any direction. This was a delicate matter, after all, and needed to be treated as such.

Caution. Absolute caution, that was the name of this game. News such as this couldn't be allowed to spread beyond just a few ears, the consequences of it becoming common knowledge could be catastrophic. Especially in Gotham's underbelly, no villain needed to know this.

Dick winced just by thinking what someone like Joker or Black Mask would do with this information.

"My magic can keep him trapped there for eternity if you choose it." From beside him, Zatanna said with a gesture towards the energy bubble containing Batman, frozen in time with even the fresh blood drops hanging suspended, leaking from the wounds Dick caused. 

"No. Not eternity." Dick quietly said, narrowing his eyes on the hulking figure he should have done this to years ago. Years before this pivotal moment where he was forced to.

"Just for now."

* * *

* * *

That was already a couple of weeks ago and the time flew by faster than a Lantern of any colour at their top speed. And a lot had happened in that time. For instance, Jason made the shockingly healthy decision to refrain from lunging right back into vigilantism on the streets, at least until he was back at full strength and  had worked the rustiness away. He did go out sometimes, yes, but mostly he maintained his Red persona and stuck to his warehouse and his computers. 

That was wise and knowing Jason was finally being careful with himself made Kyle feel better about off-world missions or the times when it was necessary to leave the ex-Robin unwatched. The recharging thing turned out to have to be a weekly occurrence but it only took seconds and when Kyle wasn't there to do it, Jason wouldn't make a scene out of the energy running low and just fell back to the wheelchair. He didn't like it, he never would, but at least he knew it wasn't permanent anymore.

There was hardly any information from Nightwing as to what he did with Batman but Kyle convinced Jason to trust the Romani enough to believe he had it handled. After seeing Nightwing  _finally_  step in, Jason begrudgingly and reluctantly became  _slightly_  less volatile with Dick and Tim, even going so far as to go slightly easier on the verbal abuse that was still very much explosive. It was... minor progress but progress nonetheless. 

It had been three days since Kyle last saw Jason, he'd been on Oa for a brief visit to Hal and the others, and he was already anxious to get back. Before he went, Jason had been working on something to do with Bane that would require going out in the field, and it had recently come to the Lantern's attention that Dick and Tim were on a mission of their own, which left Jason to do the physical work himself. He could, of course, he was capable but... but  _Bane_. 

It was high time to get back.

* * *

 

Jason was finishing setting up the bombs. He made sure the tape held strong, fixed to the roof beam before he set the timer, scanning it over quickly before he approved his work and got up off his knees, grabbing his gun from the floor and he went.

The ex-Robin jogged up to the catwalk, bounding up three steps at a time with the intentions of slipping out through the same window he came in from. Boots hitting the iron grating below, breath in his ears, Jason ran with his heart beating against his ribs. Dammit, he needed to get back into peak shame.

But he was almost at the escape route.

"Intruder!" A guard on the lower floor shrieked to alert his comrades, gun already trained on Jason and a crackle of bullets hailed through the air.  _Fuck_. He was close to being in the clear, close enough to be willing to take the risk and count on the explosion taking those guys out. He just had to get out of here.

He counted twenty-three seconds before boom.

He could see the window. He could make it in time. Jason kicked more speed into himself and dodged the scores of lead, warehouse coming alive with shouts, yells, orders, and ammo being fired without accuracy. These guys were hired muscle, not much for aim and Jason supposed he should have counted himself lucky, but when he heard a loud Mexican accented voice call out to him, he knew his luck run out.

_BANG!_

From somewhere - Jason didn't have the time to register where - Bane appeared, jumping up from a lower floor as his giant feet crashed onto the catwalk hard enough to burst eardrums. Jason froze dead in his tracks, guns in his hands, a colossus blocking his path while guards cornered him behind and on the sides and the bomb was about to blow. Fuck.

"Hola, chico, is good to see you." Bane grinned, his smile spreading across his huge face and then past its capacity, the widest Jason had ever seen. His posture stiffened to a defensive poise. 

"Sup, asshole?" Jason tipped his chin up, glaring from behind his mask. The bomb had a thirty-second timer before it turned this place to dust. He had to get past  _now_.

Apparently not in a mood to banter today, Bane swung his criminally massive arm, the solid bulk of it knocking the wind from Jason when it smacked across his midriff and sent him crashing through the brittle glass of the flanking window. The window of the  _twentieth_  storey.

And that was falling, that thing Jason was now doing.  _Freefalling_ , more specifically. The wild rush of wind pinned his clothes to his back, or whatever part of him happened to be facing downward as he spun and flailed his arms for holds that weren't there.  _Crap_. The ground was coming fast and it would shred him into a pile of broken bone and torn muscle. 

He had to think of something, yesterday fast.

But his fall hit an abrupt end when something doing a flyby snatched him out of the air.  _Da fuq?_  Strong arms locked around him, a white aura swarming to fill the surrounding air.

"Nice of you to drop in, darlin'." Kyle grinned into his ear as he held Jason to his chest, where Jason felt the steady drum of his heartbeat on his back.

"Don't ever talk to me again, Rayner," Jason grumbled, suffering the whiplash of second-hand embarrassment for that god-awful pun.

Ky's smile widened as he circled the building Jason was just thrown from. The bomb went off just then, the walls bursting outward with a deafening explosion, fire and debris flying across space and time. In this desolate corner of the city, no one intentional would be injured. It fell into the category of self-defence to harm the men who shot at Jason, so guess who wasn't dying today?

"Thought you were on Oa?"

"Yeah, but I had to get back quick since I already missed your birthday yesterday. And sorry about that, darling, I'll make it up to you." He assured while he distracted himself by kissing the crook of Jason's neck, hot breath falling over his skin while Jason mumbled an ungrateful 'please don't'. It was already hard enough to spend his seventeenth hiding from his 'family', he really didn't need Kyle to jump on the bandwagon. 

"But I guess you're lucky I got back just in time right? You'd be a red stain on the street if I hadn't." Kyle's hands tightened their bind around Jason, securing them together with less chance to break apart. Not that Jason was worried the Lantern would drop him. He knew Kyle wouldn't.

"I don't believe in luck."

Kyle turned his flight path dead straight up in a rapidly climbing ascension, leaving the lit city streets far below. A white force field formed around them as the air became too thin to sustain the human body. The Lantern adjusted Jason in his arms so that they were facing, gazes interlocking while Jason wondered what the intention here was. What were they doing this high up?

" _I_  think luck is real." Ky replied with a smile that was completely genuine. Jason felt the smile against his lips when Kyle kissed him. One of his arms moved around Jason's back, where the scars were, drawing him in nearer, firmer against his chest until there wasn't an inch of space separating them.

A far too insistent part of Jason's inner self was very vocal in telling him that the only reason he didn't shove Kyle off was that he didn't want to fall to his demise here... Or he was topping up on Kyle's power, dragging the energy within himself as the white tendrils began to pull towards him. It made him stronger, this thing Kyle happily shared with him.

It was for that reason and the aforementioned two that Jason's hand found itself placed on the back of Kyle's neck, pulling him closer and harder against himself. Those were the reasons for reciprocating and absolutely  _nothing_  else.

"Pft.  _Luck_." Rolling his eyes, Jason scoffed as he pulled back a centimetre.

"Next you're gonna tell me you think  _love_  is real."

"I'll show you." Kyle grinned, his fingers lacing his hand to Jason's.

"Fuck you." The ex-Robin shoved away from Kyle and in the same instant, sent himself into a plummeting descent once more. As he rapidly hurtled towards the city below, Jason drew his knees to his chest and opened slender straps around his ankles. He worked with all the time in the world, unclipping the fasteners.

Once he got them undone, he slid his fists through the loops and yanked his arms up, flexing his entire body straight to drag the ripstop nylon wings out his sides.

Who needed a Lantern when his outfit came with a built-in wingsuit?

Air pocketed beneath the artificial wings, slowing his fall and allowing him to control the direction he went in. Wind galloping by, he glided over the rooftops and left a floating Kyle stunned at the suddenness of what just happened, trying to piece it together with his slow brain before he rocketed after Jason with an outraged,

" _Hey-_!!"

Jason smirked to himself. What an idiot. What an absolute idiot.

But who would have thought? A Lantern of life and  _light_  needed by a _Bat_ , a creature notorious for dwelling within the dark. Those things weren't supposed to work together in any sense or symbiosis and there was a lot of unclaimed emotional baggage in that department.

But maybe there was a reason the world needed both light and darkness to keep it turning?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Schnikety snooty come follow me on the 'gram because I want attention,
> 
> https://www.instagram.com/guillotinedr3ams/

**Author's Note:**

> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/guillotinedr3ams


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